Doonesbury had the requisite and overwhelming influence in 1980, as it did on any college cartoonist who was paying attention, of course.

I ignore Hallmark Holidays. And this comes from a guy who has sold a million Opus greeting cards.

I will go to my grave in a state of abject endless fascination that we all have the capacity to become emotionally involved with a personality that doesn't exist.

Cartooning is about deconstruction: you gotta tear something down to make a joke.

I hate smoothies. Because they won't offer Firestone IPA beer as an ingredient.

If I could have drawn a cat yelling for lasagna every day for 15 years and have them pay me $30 million to do so, I would have.

I knew 'Mars Needs Moms! ' would be a movie seconds after the title came to mind. Similarly, I also knew that my daughter would be calling me a dork as a default term of endearment eventually.

I can say that even in the midst of my most cynical comic stripping: Opus shone through with a bit of heart, anchoring the ugly proceedings with a comforting pull of emotion.

He comic page is dying; I didn't want to go with it.

It was a huge challenge to learn digital painting well enough so that computers don't pop into mind when one sees one.

The universe throws us some obvious little pitches sometimes, and we need to be awake enough not to let them slip by.

Punctuality is the thief of time

If outrage were a sign of godliness, then the devil would be the godliest soul in Creation.

There are cameras nowadays that have been developed to tell the difference between a squirrel and a bomb.

I can be a binger when it comes to information, but most of the time, I'm pretty good, and I try to focus on my own life and personal communication.

It's funny to see the finished product of a movie, stuff that's so beautiful, and to remember the particulars.

I love football. I'll watch the NFL before I watch any NBA.

My intention was to write a chapter of the moral history of my country and I chose Dublin for the scene because that city seemed to me the centre of paralysis.

Chronology, so the saying goes, is the last refuge of the feeble-minded and the only resort for historians.

The skin of a python is no less precious to the snake than fur is to the fox.