I used to sit in the studio with a copy of the (Saturday Evening) Post laid across my knees ... And then I'd conjure up a picture of myself as a famous illustrator and gloat over it, putting myself in various happy situations, surrounded by admiring females, deferred to by office flunkies at the magazines, wined and dined by the editor.

I learned to draw everything except glamorous women. No matter how much I tried to make them look sexy, they always ended up looking silly... or like somebody's mother.

I keep the pornographic stuff in a bus station locker.

It wouldn't be right for me to clown around when I'm painting a president.

How will I be remembered? As a technician or artist? As a humorist or a visionary?

I work from fatigue to fatigue at my age there's only so much daylight left.

The secret to so many artists living so long is that every painting is a new adventure. So, you see, they're always looking ahead to something new and exciting. The secret is not to look back.