Let's say that life is this square of the sidewalk. We are born at this crack and we die at that crack. Now we find ourselves somewhere inside the square and in the process of walking outside of it. Suddenly, we realize our time in here is fleeting. Is our quick experience here pointless? Does anything we say or do in here really matter? Have we done anything important? Have we been happy? Have we made the most of these precious few footsteps?

I've never sat down to quantify how many hours I actually spend on the strip. I use the deadlines to estimate my progress; each month I know that I have to produce so many strips, and by the end of the month I'll make sure that I have.

I won't eat any cereal that doesn't turn the milk purple.

Talking with you is sort of the conversational equivalent of an out of body experience.

Every time I've built character, I've regretted it.

Calvin: Sometimes when I'm talking, my words can't keep up with my thoughts. I wonder why we can think faster than we speak? Hobbes: Probably so we can think twice.

Know what's weird? Day by day, nothing seems to change. But pretty soon, everything's different.