Childhood - that was not my favorite time in my life.

I noticed that I used to go to second hand shops and flea markets and find funny, cute things, but now I go into those stores, and I think, This is dead people's stuff. This is all, like, somebody cleaned out their parents' house, and I don't want any of it. If I didn't want it from my parents, I don't want it from your parents.

I think maybe to survive, I mean to just get through the day - I'm not saying that everything is hilariously funny.

I think when you really love something, you notice the minutiae.

A friend of mine gave me a very good piece of advice, which is if you don't think your kids are going to want it, don't take it.

As I would soon learn myself, cleaning up what a parent leaves behind stirs up dust, both literal and metaphorical. It dredges up memories. You feel like you're a kid again, poking around in your parents' closet, only this time there's no chance of getting in trouble, so you don't have to be so sure that everything gets put back exactly where it was before you did your poking around. Still, you hope to find something, or maybe you fear finding something, that will completely change your conception of the parent you thought you knew.

The fact that cartoons are reproduced doesn't mean anything to me as far as whether they are "real art" or not.