And just as it is with all proper grannies, she ordered me into my pink bunny jammies.
BERKELEY BREATHEDCartooning is about deconstruction: you gotta tear something down to make a joke.
More Berkeley Breathed Quotes
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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.
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I ignore Hallmark Holidays. And this comes from a guy who has sold a million Opus greeting cards.
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I started as a news photographer at the University Of Texas’ Daily Texan.
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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.
BERKELEY BREATHED -
It’s never too late to have a happy childhood.
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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.
BERKELEY BREATHED -
Cartooning is about deconstruction: you gotta tear something down to make a joke.
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Liberal, shmiberal. That should be a new word. Shmiberal: one who is assumed liberal, just because he’s a professional whiner in the newspaper.
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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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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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The digital world has allowed me a connection with my reader that I’d never had before. I didn’t meet the people who read my material.
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I grew up in Los Angeles and always wished I’d spent a childhood in a far different place.
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I don’t get fan mail. It disappeared with the digital revolution.
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The universe throws us some obvious little pitches sometimes, and we need to be awake enough not to let them slip by.
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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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Doonesbury had the requisite and overwhelming influence in 1980, as it did on any college cartoonist who was paying attention, of course.
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I was never asked to join the Editorial Cartoonists Of America. No fraternity would have me in college, either. I think they know something.
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Keep in mind that in 1985, I had a potential readership of over 50 million Americans. At that time, a good portion of those were under 30.
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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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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.
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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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I paint digitally now. A pity, in some ways, as the biggest price one pays is that you no longer have a finished piece of physical art to hang on a wall. I miss that terribly.
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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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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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It’s not terribly dignified to have anyone seeing one laugh at one’s own material.
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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.
BERKELEY BREATHED