Blustery cold days should be spend propped up in bed with a mug of hot chocolate and a pile of comic books.

CALVIN: Our hero regains consciousness at the feet of a sarcastic alien.

Calvin: Dear Santa, before I submit life to your scrutiny, I demand to know who made YOU the matter of my fate?! Who are YOU to question my behavior, HUH??? What gives you the right?! Hobbes: Santa makes the toys, so he gets to decide who to give them to. Calvin: Oh.

I can never enjoy Sundays, because in the back of my mind I always know I've got to go to school the next day. It's like trying to enjoy your last meal before the execution.

A little rudeness and disrespect can elevate a meaningless interaction to a battle of wills and add drama to an otherwise dull day.

When life gives you lemons, chunk it right back.

I still read newspaper comics, but without much hope for their future.