You can't know what a book is about until the very end. This is true of a book we're reading or writing.

At the center of everything we call 'the arts,' and children call 'play,' is something which seems somehow alive.

This ability to exist in pieces is what some adults call resilience. And I suppose in some way it is a kind of resilience, a horrible resilience that makes adults believe children forget trauma.

I remember my comic strips being called "new wave." It bugged me.

I found myself compelled, like this weird, shameful compulsion to draw cute animals.

I grew up in a house that had a whole lot of trouble. As much trouble as you could imagine.

You know that great car-stomach feeling when you fly over a hump? That was my whole body.