War is a perversion of sex.

Art makes us feel less alone. It makes us think: somebody else has thought this, somebody else has had these feelings.

I sat on the bed. I looked at the Rorschach blot. I tried to make it look like a spreading tree, shadows pooled beneath it, but it didn't. It looked more like a dead cat I once found, the fat, glistening grubs writhing blindly, squirming over each other, frantically tunneling away from the light. But even that isn't the real horror. The horror is this: in the end, it is simply a picture of empty meaningless blackness.

I despise the comic industry, but I will always love the comic medium.

I'm a very smug show-off at heart. I'm altogether too pleased with myself. The big boost for me is to be able to turn out something that I think is pretty marvelous, like 'Lost Girls.' I'm not in it for money, I'm just in it for the glory.

There has been a rather unpleasant sensibility apparent in Frank Miller's work for quite a long time.

Janey accuses me of chasing jailbait. She bursts into angry tears, asking if it's because she's getting older. It's true. She's aging more noticeably every day — while I am standing still. I prefer the stillness here. I am tired of Earth. These people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives.