And then the really awful thing is that at the end of the day after crying and experiencing things, then you look at what you've written and you're like, 'Hmm, there's half a page that's good here.' Then you throw out everything else.
“Ring up your parents and ring up your kids and tell them that you love them.”
“My real father died when I was two years old, so I never knew him. He was a barber in Chicago.”