Lynda Barry Quotes

If it is your time, love will track you down like a cruise missile.

The histories of vampires and people are not so different, really. How many of us can honestly see our own reflection?

My goal on my bucket list is to write a romantic comedy movie.

What if she stepped on a needle and it went right into her foot and Roberta would not feel it and the needle would rise and rise and rise through the veins leading up to the heart and then the needle would STAB HER IN THE HEART and Roberta would DIE and it would be VERY PAINFUL this according to nurse mother a medical expert on Freaky Ways to Croak... The mother shouted that she knew several people who died from the Rising Stab of the Unfelt Needle or RSUN she has seen cases of it many times and not ONE PERSON HAS SURVIVED IT.

There was a beautiful time in the beginning when I just did it and didn't analyze the consequences, but I think that time ends in everyone's work.

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

What is an idea made of? Of future, past and also meanwhile.

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

Love is an exploding cigar we willingly smoke.

I do love to eavesdrop. It's inspirational, not only for subject matter but for actual dialogue, the way people talk.

I do dumb stuff, like playing my favorite dumb Barry White song and lip-synching into the mirror so it looks like his voice is coming out of my mouth.

Always watch the hands. The hands will tell you everything you need to know.

It is true that I am a person with black pockets of evil and hatred in my heart. There are underground places inside of me

Remember how you used to be able to feel your bed breathing and the walls spinning when you were a kid?

He's picked clean! Eaten by cats!

I am about as detailed as a shadow.

In life there are always these things happening if you can just get the joke.

If I could only turn the etch-a-sketch of my life upside down.

Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do not blame the drugs.

Playing and fun are not the same thing, though when we grow up we may forget that and find ourselves mixing up playing with happiness. There can be a kind of amnesia about the seriousness of playing, especially when we played by ourselves.

something can only become an illusion after disillusionment. before that, it is something real. what caused the disillusionment? no one told me the print on the wall was just ink and paper and had no life of its own. at some point the cat stopped blinking, and i stopped thinking it could.

Flies die in so many lonely places. -Roberta Rohbeson

When you think about it, giving up your real personality is a small price to pay for the richness of living happily ever after with an actual man!

When you start to think of the arts as not this thing that is going to get you somewhere in terms of becoming an artist or becoming famous or whatever it is that people do, but rather a way of making being in the world not just bearable, but fascinating, then it starts to get interesting again.

The thing I call ‘my mind’ seems to be kind of like a landlord that doesn’t really know its tenants.

The point of the daily diary exercise is not to record what you already know about what happened to you in the last 24 hours. Instead, it’s an invitation to the back of your mind to come forward and reveal to you the perishable images about the day you didn’t notice you noticed at all.

You'll never call him Fifi again.

what is an imaginary friend? are there also imaginary enemies?

When I work on a book, I usually start with a question. And I don't sit around and go "I need to write a book. What's a good question?" It will be a question that's just clanging around in my head.

No matter what, expect the unexpected. And whenever possible BE the unexpected.

Cartoonist was the weirdest name I finally let myself have. I would never say it. When I heard it I silently thought, what an awful word.

For horror movies, color is reassuring because, at least in older films, it adds to the fakey-ness.

By the 6th grade I stopped doing ordinary things in front of people. It had been ordinary to sing, kids are singing all the time when they are little, but then something happens. It's not that we stop singing. I still sang. I just made sure I was alone when I did it. And I made sure I never did it accidentally. That thing we call 'bursting into song.' I believe this happens to most of us. We are still singing, but secretly and all alone.

What year is it in your imagination?

The strips are nearly effortless unless I am really emotionally upset, a wreck.

But when the thing that is scaring you is already Jesus, who are you supposed to pray to?

I listen like mad to any conversation taking place next to me just trying to hear why this is funny. Women's restrooms are especially great. I wash my hands twice waiting for people to come in and start talking.

Love will make a way out of no way

Sometimes, I think the only art left for us is slowly peeling the label off a beer bottle while somebody tells you about a dream they had.