Quotes of All Topics . Occasions . Authors
I love my parents. I did love them. It's complicated.
Childhood - that was not my favorite time in my life.
Even if you don't have any dishes, you need a celery dish.
I always imagined my little cartoons on plates for some reason.
I think when you really love something, you notice the minutiae.
I just really love the cartoon form. I love the plasticity of it.
I gave up on ever trying to get 'my way.' I barely knew it existed.
I don't like holidays. And I don't like crowds of people. I don't like noise.
My life is so boring that your brains are going to melt and come out of your eyes.
It's almost selfishness, taking care of your mental health. You can't just not do it.
I like being able to go grocery shopping and not feel that Im fighting a thousand people.
I like being able to go grocery shopping and not feel that I'm fighting a thousand people.
I don't like going into the basement. I'm always afraid that something's going to blow up.
You might have a worry that's so stupid it just peters out by itself, like a bad investment.
Grime is not like messiness or some fingerprints on a cabinet; it takes a long time to accumulate.
I sometimes suffer from insomnia. And when I can't fall asleep, I play what I call the alphabet game.
My parents were extremely reluctant. When my father was clearly dying, my mother refused to acknowledge it.
The fact that cartoons are reproduced doesn't mean anything to me as far as whether they are "real art" or not.
In Brooklyn, I don't feel that I'm holding up people with briefcases if I catch a stroller wheel in the sidewalk.
I think maybe to survive, I mean to just get through the day - I'm not saying that everything is hilariously funny.
For me, drawing was an outlet. No one in school said, 'Oh, she can do sports,' or, 'She's pretty,' but I could draw.
Theres something about most phobias where theres a tiny, tiny corner where you think this really actually could happen.
There's something about most phobias where there's a tiny, tiny corner where you think this really actually could happen.
My kids always joked that I spent more time cooking the birds' food than I have cooking for them. And it's probably true.
I cannot stand superheroes. I do not understand any of its appeal. It has just bored me to death since I was a little kid.
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.
Even under the best of circumstances - in twenty-first century America at least - caring for elderly parents ain't no place for sissies.
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 had to get good grades and do well in school - my mother was an assistant principal and my father was a teacher - and they took this very seriously.
Being female was just one more way I felt different and weird. I was also a young 'un, and also my cartoons were not like typical 'New Yorker' cartoons.
My works were not - and they still aren't - single panel gags with a punch line underneath them. I like a lot of those cartoons; I just don't draw them.
I'm sure that my parents' behavior has entered my work, I'm sorry to say. I don't think you need to have a difficult childhood to be funny, but it helps.
I've always wanted to learn how to hook rugs. A wonderful artist named Leslie Giuliani taught me how. The nice thing is you can change it as you go along.
I used to think of the cartoons as a magazine within a magazine. First you go through and read all the cartoons, and then you go back and read the articles.
It's like a 'chicken or the egg' thing. We're all part of the culture. We're reflecting it; we're changing it. So, yeah, I think culture is always changing.
I love detail, like drawing what's on top of someone's coffee table. Maybe there's a little bowl of butterscotch candies on it, next to the four TV remotes.
Did you know that you can live on Ensure for a year? A person can live for a really long time just lying in bed and drinking Ensure - way longer than you think.
I used to love to draw things that made me laugh or made friends laugh. When I was 13 or 14, I started thinking, This is what I like to do more than anything else.
I think I have a habit of, in my head, taking notes on whatever, you know, whether they're verbal or pictorial or just making a note of things as they're happening.
I think of my drawing style like handwriting: it's a mix of whatever handwriting you're born with, plus bits and pieces you've pilfered from other people around you.
I think, especially with my parents, I wanted to remember who they were. I wanted to remember all of it. I didn't want to purge myself of it. I wanted to remember it.
Sometimes, you know - I think, with a lot of things, at the time, everything is extremely upsetting, and then you look back on it, and it actually can be sort of funny.
I think when your parents die, it is kind of like a moving sidewalk: you're not just on the sideline and watching them go by. You know, you're going to the same place they are.
I don't put myself through that nauseating experience of looking at someone's face while they go through your stuff. Ugh! It's just horrible! It gives me the cringes to even think about it.
My parents scrimped and saved all their lives, to the point where my mother used a disgusting old oven mitt that was stained and partly patched together with a skirt I made in seventh grade.
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.
It cracks me up to see these ads for TV - for Depends or for glue for your dentures. The people in them look 55 with a hint of gray. Where are the people who are falling apart? We don't see that.
One way of paying tribute to my parents was 'bearing witness' as the Quakers do - writing down everything that was happening instead of turning my back on it and pretending that it was all great.
It was deeply interesting to observe my mother closely and to draw her. During those last months, she wasn't speaking much, if at all, and it was a way for me to be with her. It felt very natural.
I have an African gray parrot; her name is Eli. We thought she was a boy. And a blue-streaked lory named Marco. He's 10. And a yellow and green parakeet, Petey. He's very cute, but he's getting old.