It's almost selfishness, taking care of your mental health. You can't just not do it.

A friend of mine gave me a very good piece of advice, which is if you don't think your kids are going to want it, don't take it.

I had the impression in art school that cartooning was thought of as a lesser art than painting because cartoons are reproduced, so the work is not the single thing like a painting, but instead is the reproduced image.

I think maybe to survive, I mean to just get through the day - I'm not saying that everything is hilariously funny.

I putter. I nurse old grudges. I fold origami while nursing old grudges. I think about the past. I wonder if there’s any grudges I should start.

I love seeing original cartoons. You get to see the artist's corrections, like erasures or Wite-Out or patches, and you get to see the artist's line in better detail, and what kind of ink they use - whether they like a cold black or a warm black, and what kind of paper they like, how big or small they like to draw - art nerd stuff like that.

My life is so boring that your brains are going to melt and come out of your eyes.

I always imagined my little cartoons on plates for some reason.

You could pray all you want that you have a massive stroke while you're working and die, but possibly that won't happen, and you'll be in this bed, and somebody's going to have to clean you up.

Grime is not like messiness or some fingerprints on a cabinet it takes a long time to accumulate.

I like being able to go grocery shopping and not feel that Im fighting a thousand people.

I noticed that I used to go to second hand shops and flea markets and find funny, cute things, but now I go into those stores, and I think, This is dead people's stuff. This is all, like, somebody cleaned out their parents' house, and I don't want any of it. If I didn't want it from my parents, I don't want it from your parents.

The fact that cartoons are reproduced doesn't mean anything to me as far as whether they are real art or not.

My parents were extremely reluctant. When my father was clearly dying, my mother refused to acknowledge it.