Cartooning is about deconstruction: you gotta tear something down to make a joke.
BERKELEY BREATHEDI started as a news photographer at the University Of Texas’ Daily Texan.
More Berkeley Breathed Quotes
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I don’t get fan mail. It disappeared with the digital revolution.
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It was a huge challenge to learn digital painting well enough so that computers don’t pop into mind when one sees one.
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It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
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And just as it is with all proper grannies, she ordered me into my pink bunny jammies.
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A turkey which was no doubt a lively, intelligent bird… a social being… capable of actual affection… nuzzling its young with almost human- like compassion. Anyway, it’s dead and we’re gonna eat it. Please give our respects to its family.
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It’s not terribly dignified to have anyone seeing one laugh at one’s own material.
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The cartooning was always just an abstraction. It was an income. It was making me famous. It was allowing me to go and do other things that I’d wanted to do.
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I could draw Bloom County with my nose and pay my cleaning lady to write it, and I’d bet I wouldn’t lose 10% of my papers over the next twenty years. Such is the nature of comic-strips. Once established, their half-life is usually more than nuclear waste.
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A mind is a terrible thing. All this evolution nonsense is making me feel like a complete APE!
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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.
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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.
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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.
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My kids hear me behind my door, giggling like an idiot, and they roll their eyes at the blatant indignity of it all.
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If you’ll read the subtext for many of those old strips, you’ll find the heart of an old-fashioned Libertarian. And I’d be a Libertarian, if they weren’t all a bunch of tax-dodging professional whiners.
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Dear Lord, I’ve been asked, nay commanded, to thank Thee for the Christmas turkey before us…
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