Dang, first John Hughes, and now this?

"Totally zonked, and all the dope scraped or sniffed clean from the tiny cellophane bags. I can see the Cloisters with its million in medieval art out the bedroom window. I got to go in and puke. I just want to be pure."

From the start, and even now, no book meant more, or means more, to us than The Basketball Diaries.

Rest in peace.