I let my mind wander and it didn't come back.

A box of new crayons! Now they’re all pointy, lined up in order, bright and perfect. Soon they’ll be a bunch of ground down, rounded, indistinguishable stumps, missing their wrappers and smudged with other colors. Sometimes life seems unbearably tragic.

If you give a little credit to the concept of the artist, I think you ought to indulge excesses a bit, because that reflects the personality of the writer. Now if a joke is in bad taste or it's not funny, okay, that's awhole different thing, but how you craft a joke is really what the writer's job is, and I don't think that technique should be subject to any editorial constraints.

I think hiccup cures were really invented for the amusement of the patient's friends.

I've been thinking Hobbes" "On a weekend?" "Well, it wasn't on purpose

I guess I have a gift for expressing pedestrian tastes. In a way, it's kind of depressing.

Is it truly being good if the only reason I behave well is so I can get more loot at Christmas? I mean, really, all I'm doing is saying I can be bribed.