“The fan letters were mostly answered by professional people that’d done them for a living. And I didn’t have any daily connection with their response to my work. I didn’t have a relationship with my audience. And every artist should have it.”

My kids hear me behind my door, giggling like an idiot, and they roll their eyes at the blatant indignity of it all.

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

And just as it is with all proper grannies, she ordered me into my pink bunny jammies.

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

I started as a news photographer at the University Of Texas’ Daily Texan.

A mind is a terrible thing. All this evolution nonsense is making me feel like a complete APE!

I don’t get fan mail. It disappeared with the digital revolution.

I was never asked to join the Editorial Cartoonists Of America. No fraternity would have me in college, either. I think they know something.

I grew up in Los Angeles and always wished I’d spent a childhood in a far different place.

I’d be a Libertarian, if they weren’t all a bunch of tax-dodging professional whiners.

It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.

Harry Potter’ shouldn’t be children’s first experience with suspense and plot turns.

Steve Dallas…a frat-boy lawyer who I knew in school. He’s never written me. I suspect he was shot by an annoyed girlfriend, which has saved me many legal fees.

I’ll confess right here that I secretly wish I’d have drawn a strip about a little boy with a fake tiger, going for adventures throughout the universe in spaceships of his imagination.

I drew the last image ever of Opus at midnight while Puccini was playing and I got rather stupid. Thirty years. A bit like saying goodbye to a child – which is ironic because I was never, never sentimental about him as many of his fans were.

I happen to think nearly everybody – especially those one might find in the odd issue of ‘People’ magazine, including me – is frightfully boring, especially me. And Tom Cruise. Tom and I are alike in only this way.