"I readjusted my scratched-up wide-framed Annie Hall glasses, which a publicist friend once described as my own form of birth control because 'no one will sleep with you with those on'" (Chapter 1, p. 6).

"Like most fathers, had had chastised me when I was a teenager about allowing my room to get filthy, so I was used to that. But today I felt ashamed, as if the room was a metaphor for my screwed-up life. I dreaded the idea of his seeing how I was living" (Chapter 4, p. 22).

"I would soon learn firsthand that this kind of illness often ebbs and flows, leaving the sufferer convinced that the worst is over, even when it's only retreating for a moment before pouncing again" (Chapter 5, p. 26).

"The healthy brain is a symphony of 100 billion neurons, the actions of each individual brain cell harmonizing into a whole that enables thoughts, movements, memories...