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"It was always hard for me to sleep. I still dreamed about dope, sometimes. Dreams where I’d be doing something ordinary, walking down Fifth Avenue or something like that, and then all of a sudden I’d fins myself in a dark little room somewhere, one of a thousand dark little rooms I had been in, and the room would be full of people fixing and I would be, too. I’d have my works out and my arm tied off and someone would be cooking up a fat dose of junk in a spoon and I would smell that smell and the next thing I knew I’d be taking a shot."

— Dope by Sara Gran (2006)