Calvin: Why are you crying mom? Mom: I'm cutting up an onion. Calvin: It must be hard to cook if you anthrpomorphisize your vegetables.

I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can play together all night.

Buttons ... check. Dials ... check. Switches ... check. Little colored lights ... check.

We consume everything like potato chips. In this environment, I suspect the cartoonist's connection with readers is likely to be superficial and fleeting, unless he taps into some fervent special interest niche. And that audience, almost by definition, will be tiny.

Things are never quite as scary when you've got a best friend.

You can draw a penguin on a toilet reading The New York Times and it's adorable, but try doing it with an adult male character, and it's disgusting.

Getting an inch of snow is like winning 10 cents in the lottery.