SparkyMcSparky

a.k.a. Karl Marx

All writers who attempt to draw broad strokes and lump all humanity together all effective forget that human beings are erratic and unpredictable by nature. Their theories are inherently self-defeating.

Not that I mind Ayn Rand - I just find her views rather simplistic, crafted from a singular and narrow focus, and with a certain arrogance that doesn't engage but instead disrespects other viewpoints.

Showing what a plebeian I am though, my favorite literary character for quitting drinking is Jack Torrance from The Shining (book, not movie thank you...though I do like Kubrick). Some of the insightful quotes (and Mr. King was also attempting to quit drinking at the time):

“Once, during the drinking phase, Wendy had accused him of desiring his own destruction but not possessing the necessary moral fiber to support a full-blown deathwish. So he manufactured ways in which other people could do it, lopping a piece at a time off himself and their family.”

“How many times, over how many years, had he—a grown man—asked for the mercy of another chance? He was suddenly so sick of himself, so revolted, that he could have groaned aloud.”

“She had never dreamed there could be so much pain in a life when there was nothing physically wrong.”

"He had driven back to his own house in the VW with the radio turned up, and some disco group chanted over and over again, talismanic in the house before dawn: Do it anyway ... you wanta do it . . . do it anyway you want ... No matter how loud he heard the squealing tires, the crash. When he blinked his eyes shut, he saw that single crushed wheel with its broken spokes pointing at the sky."

And to me, a conversation I almost exactly had with my wife:

"She went to do the dishes. Her back to him, she said: "Jack. I've been thinking."
"Have you?" He lit a cigarette with trembling hands. No hangover this morning, oddly enough. Only the shakes. He blinked. In the instant's darkness the bike flew up against the windshield, starring the glass. The tires shrieked. The flashlight bobbed.
"I want to talk to you about ... about what's best for me and Danny. For you too, maybe. I don't know. We should have talked about it before, I guess."
"Would you do something for me?" he asked, looking at the wavering tip of his cigarette. "Would you do me a favor?"
"What?" Her voice was dull and neutral. He looked at her back.
"Let's talk about it a week from today. If you still want to"
Now she turned to him, her hands lacy with suds, her pretty face pale and disillusioned. "Jack, promises don't work with you. You just go right on with — " She stopped, looking in his eyes, fascinated, suddenly uncertain.
"In a week," he said. His voice had lost all its strength and dropped to a whisper. "Please. I'm not promising anything. If you still want to talk then, we'll talk. About anything you want."

Sorry for the threadjack!

EDIT: Should also note that I couldn't get through Atlas Shrugged