The whole basis of working in black and white and grays became the basis of my understanding of color, because it's all about tone, it's all about light and dark. If you don't get that, then your color work is going to be a mess. So that's the beginning of the toolkit: drawing and black and white media.

Even after the age of 50 it was impossible for me to see my mother as a human being. I felt she was a monster, and she had subtly been influencing my behavior and my thoughts and my dreams for so long that she was kind of a monster; she was a demon. And when I brought her back to life, I could feel that malevolent presence around me again, that woman who was totally incapable of giving nurturing to anybody, and, you know, her selfishness and her withdrawn indifference to everything but her own needs.

I began drawing probably when I was - around the same time everybody else puts a mark on a piece of paper with a crayon - when I was two, probably. The difference between me and everybody else is, I kept doing it for the rest of my life; there was something very satisfying about that.

Russell Hoban created a tremendous marriage of characters and philosophy. The plots, the wind-up toy characters, the settings, they all work together to support basically a dark vision that the world is kind of a dump. And we all have to find our ways of surviving in it and of making it a better place. It's a world where we don't have much help, other than what we bring to the table. It's a world in which brotherly love counts more than anything else.

The odd thing about recurring dreams is that, no matter how many times you dream the same thing, it always takes you by surprise.

Humanization and coming to understand somebody as a human being is about as good a kind of forgiveness as you can get, I think.

.... When you have no voice, you don't exist