I fear my enthusiasm flags when real work is demanded of me.
I felt so painfully isolated that I vowed I would get revenge on the world by becoming a famous cartoonist.
You don’t have journalists over there anymore, what they have is public relations people. That’s what they have over in America now. Two-hundred and fifty thousand people in public relations. And a dwindling number of actual reporters and journalists.
When I come up against the real world, I just vacillate.
Hey kids, while you're out smashing the state keep a smile on your lips and a song in your hearts.
Drawing is a way for me to articulate things inside myself that I can't otherwise grasp.
Your vigor for life appalls me.
There's constant drama, and I'm busy, busy, but at the center of the madness is the desire to write, the need to write. That desire, that need, is as palpable and relentless as any junkie's craving, and will possess me all day until I can park myself in a chair and do my work.
Sex on the brain is the wrong place to have it.
And the sad truth is that nobody wants me to write comedy. The Exorcist not only ended that career, it expunged all memory of its existence.
Now, occasionally I will still have that quarter pounder because I love fast food, but you have to keep it to a minimum.