Mostly it was Mad magazine. And I did read a lot of - I had a subscription when I was little, but I also had access to some old collections, the little paperbacks of the really good stuff.

I’m glad mainstream culture is starting to catch up to where lesbian-feminism was 30 years ago.

My father once nearly came to blows with a female dinner guest about whether a particular patch of embroidery was fuchsia or magenta. But the infinite gradations of color in a fine sunset - from salmon to canary to midnight blue - left him wordless.

You can't live and write at the same time.

Yeah, I read Judy Blume. My mother didn't like that, but I read it anyhow.

For some reason writing and drawing are very separate processes for me.

It's our very capacity for self-consciousness that makes us self-destructive!