My greatest accomplishment so far is to keep selling enough that I never want for the labor that sustains my Presbyterian soul.

Sometimes... sometimes I think the Asylum is a head. We're inside a huge head that dreams us all into being. Perhaps it's your head, Batman. Arkham is a looking glass... and we are you.

And I ask him why he cuts his arms with a razor. "Just fo feel. Just to feel something.

I'm lucky to have a job doing something I really love to do, and I'm happy to accept the pressures of relentless deadlines or reader expectations as necessary evils. It's probably not as stressful as mining coal or leading men into battle.

Your head's like mine, like all our heads; big enough to contain every god and devil there ever was. Big enough to hold the weight of oceans and the turning stars. Whole universes fit in there! But what do we choose to keep in this miraculous cabinet? Little broken things, sad trinkets that we play with over and over. The world turns our key and we play the same little tune again and again and we think that tune's all we are.

The interior of our skulls contains a portal to infinity.

I tend to only read comics written by friends or people I've known. And I'm not a great comic reader.