The interior of our skulls contains a portal to infinity.

I have to confess I'm not a huge comics fan in the wider sense of comics as an art form.

Then I reminded myself that all intelligent children suffer bad dreams.

We tell our children they're trapped like rats on a doomed, bankrupt, gangster-haunted planet with dwindling resources, with nothing to look forward to but rising sea levels and imminent mass extinctions, then raise a disapproving eyebrow when, in response, they dress in black, cut themselves with razors, starve themselves, gorge themselves, or kill one another.

Whatever you do, make sure you go right to the top, because you sure as hell can't piss upwards on people.

A cannon fires only once but words detonate across centuries

I use everything. Turning life into stories is how I make sense of my experience. No matter how weird or disturbing or upsetting to me personally, it all finds its way in there.