My last days at MGM were like the fall of the Roman Empire in fast motion.

What the real world of 1941 needed most was the release and relief provided by laughter.

That's what keeps me going: dreaming, inventing, then hoping and dreaming some more in order to keep dreaming.

I don't know anyone who enjoys going to the hospital. To help remedy this, I got an idea to create what a Laugh Room in the pediatric ward of hospitals.

Parents look at me like I'm somebody pretty important, and say, We were raised on your characters, and now we're enjoying them all over again with our children.

High-level, big-deal publicity has a way of getting old for me, but what never fails to thrill me is when I make personal appearances.

Except for me, no one in my family could draw.