Quotes by Cartoonists - Page 9

I'd rather play tennis than go to the dentist. I'd rather play soccer than go to the doctor.I'd rather play Hurk than go to work.Hurk? Hurk? What's Hurk?I don't know, but it must be better than work.
Shel Silverstein
We can't find the cat,We don't know where she's at,Oh, where did she go?Does anyone know?Let's ask this walking hat.
Shel Silverstein
She had blue skin. And so did he. He kept it hid, And so did she. They searched for blue Their whole life through, Then passed right by - And never knew.
Shel Silverstein
Every time I watchLady and the TrampI think"SHE'S HAVING SOME OF YOUR PASTA!""QUICK! EAT IT ALL! EAT IT ALL, NOW!!!""GROWL! BARE YOUR TEETH! DO SOMETHING!"OH, DON'T GIVE HER THE MEATBALL!THERE'S MEAT IN IT!""IDIOT!"But then againI'm not the romantic type.
Francesco Marciuliano
If you are a dreamer, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin; come in! Come in!
Shel Silverstein
When the heartIs cut or cracked or brokenDo not clutch itLet the wound lie openLet the windFrom the good old sea blow inTo bathe the wound with saltAnd let it sting.Let a stray dog lick itLet a bird lean in the hole and singA simple song like a tiny bellAnd let it ringLet it go.Let it out.Let it all unravel.Let it free and it can beA path on which to travel.
Michael Leunig
One sister for sale,One sister for sale,One crying and spying young sister for saleI'm really not kidding so who'll start the biddingDo I hear a dollar?A nickle?A penny?Oh isnt there isnt there isnt there anyOne person who will buy this sister for saleThis crying spying old young sister for sale.
Shel Silverstein
THE ONE WHO STAYEDYou should have heard the old men cry,You should have heard the biddiesWhen that sad stranger raised his fluteAnd piped away the kiddies.Katy, Tommy, Meg and BobFollowed, skipped gaily,Red-haired Ruth, my brother Rob,And little crippled Bailey,John and Nils and Cousin Claire,Dancin', spinnin', turnin','Cross the hills to God knows where-They never came returnin'.'Cross the hills to God knows whereThe piper pranced, a leadin'Each child in Hamlin Town but me,And I stayed home unheedin'.My papa says that I was blestFor if that music found me,I'd be witch-cast like all the rest.This town grows old around me.I cannot say I did not hearThat sound so haunting hollow-I heard, I heard, I heard it clear...I was afraid to follow.
Shel Silverstein
Knock! knock!who's there?me!me who?that's right?what's right?meehoo!that's what I want to know!what's what you want to know?me who?yes, exactly!exactly what?yes, I have exactlywatt on a chain!exactly what on a chain?yes!yes what?no, exactlywatt!that's what I want to know!I told you-exactlywatt!exactly what?yes!yes what?yes it's with me.what's with you?exactlywatt-that's what with me.me who?yes!go away!knock knock...
Shel Silverstein
TREE HOUSEA tree house, a free house,A secret you and me house,A high up in the leafy branchesCozy as can be house.A street house, a neat house,Be sure to wipe your feet houseIs not my kind of house at all- Let's go live in a tree house.
Shel Silverstein
I will not play at tug o' war.I'd rather play at hug o' war,Where everyone hugsInstead of tugs,Where everyone gigglesAnd rolls on the rug,Where everyone kisses,And everyone grins,And everyone cuddles,And everyone wins.
Shel Silverstein
Maybe we can eventually make language a complete impediment to understanding.
Bill Watterson
What dooms our best efforts to cultivate empathy and compassion is always, of course, other people.
Tim Kreider
One reason we rush so quickly to the vulgar satisfactions of judgment, and love to revel in our righteous outrage, is that it spares us from the impotent pain of empathy, and the harder, messier work of understanding.
Tim Kreider
Books like Twilight are not art. They are mass-produced crap that is meant to be consumed by the widest possible audience, for the largest possible profit.
Oliver Gaspirtz
I think that true horror is accomplished by slowly getting into your brain. The old way is much more scary.
Sergio Aragonés
Moreover, man carries in his heart the desire always to wield his scientific knowledge in service of the greater good. He would of course never use it for destructive purposes. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! ...
Jacques Tardi
I've been coerced into free will.
Brian Spellman
We don't value craftsmanship anymore! All we value is ruthless efficiency, and I say we deny our own humanity that way! Without appreciation for grace and beauty, there's no pleasure in creating things and no pleasure in having them! Our lives are made drearier, rather than richer! How can a person take pride in his work when skill and care are considered luxuries! We're not machines! We have a human need for craftsmanship!
Bill Watterson
Wilbur looked at the list glumly. "Are you sure you need all this stuff?""Yep.""The ax?""The ax is critical.""The c
Ursula Vernon
Children's reading and children's thinking are the rock-bottom base upon which this country will rise. Or not rise. In these days of tension and confusion, writers are beginning to realize that books for children have a greater potential for good or evil than any other form of literature on earth.
Dr. Seuss
The secret to good writing is to use small words for big ideas, not to use big words for small ideas.
Oliver Markus
See, that's the problem with putting too much stock in the old days. You remember all the GOOD stuff, but you forget about the time you got spanked by your best friend's mom.
Jeff Kinney
I'm basically one of the best people I know.
Jeff Kinney
Once upon a time, there was a little creature that was rather small and rather wicked and it lived all alone in the woods. The little creature lived in a little den, at the bottom of a little ravine, filled with not-at-all little brambles and on the edge of a forest that could only be described as really freakin' huge.
Ursula Vernon
I need some kind of... like... last minute, poorly-set-up deus ex machina!!
Bryan Lee O'Malley
We have met the enemy and he is us.
Walt Kelly
For all the sirens, game-show buzzers, and drum-rolls of life, it is the nature of men to die quietly.
D.B.C. Pierre
Calling a book "Young Adult" is just a fancy way of saying the book is censored.
Oliver Markus
Calling a book "Young Adult" is just a fancy way of saying the book is censored. People used to say they like to read books about romance, true crime, comedy, horror or science fiction. But these days people simply say they like to read "Young Adult" books. As if that were a topic. But that's the thing: Young Adult is not a topic, it's a level of censorship. Saying "I like Young Adult books" is just another way of saying "I like books that have been dumbed down for children. I like books with no big words and no difficult abstract concepts. Nothing that will strain my brain." People like to brag that they used to start reading at an early age, as if that were a badge of honor, a sign of intelligence. Nobody brags about when they started to watch TV. But books are being dumbed down so much these days, it's really not a sign of great intelligence when you're a grown up and you struggle your way through Green Eggs and Ham.
Oliver Markus
I am here, come closer,” the old donkey said with her eyes. “I will mother you.
Katherine Dunn
BE CAREFUL, OR BE ROADKILL!
Bill Watterson
I learned to smile, avoiding happiness advice.
Brian Spellman
If you cant beat 'em cooperate 'em to death!
Charles M. Schulz
If you're in the middle of a monumental and devastating life crisis, hang in there. It'll be over in about an hour. Two hours, tops.
Anthony Rubino Jr.
You can't have a decent party for the survivors of a deadly blast without inviting the person who detonated the explosion.
Anthony Rubino Jr.
There's an ad for every vice. That's advice.
Brian Spellman
The safe and cultural method of eating crackers in bed is to wear a diver's suit instead of pajamas.
Basil Wolverton
Until you stalk and overrun, you cannot devour anyone.-Hobbes
Bill Watterson
How love works: Proximity leads to intimacy, and intimacy leads to a relationship. In other words, people who are around each other a lot, get close, and end up hooking up. So it's no great mystery why bosses and secretaries or co-workers or classmates end up dating each other.
Oliver Gaspirtz
It takes it out of you, writing with heart. And it was just for me really. Sort of a confirmation to myself that my inner diva can still make love to the keyboard when she’s in the mood. I have to keep her roped and gagged when I’m writing for the newspapers. They don’t like her at all. They don’t want love. They want a quick tryst in a motel room that’s forgotten in a few hours.
Colin Cotterill
I'm sixty-nine years old, and I have no plans to run for reelection. Do you think I give a damn?
John Hart
What you rarely see is a stillborn failure that transmogrifies into a stellar success. Small successes can grow into big ones, but failures rarely grow into successes.I can’t think of an example in my life. It’s generally true that if no one is excited about your art/product/idea in the beginning, they never will be. If the first commercial version of your work excites no one to action, it’s time to move on to something different. Don’t be fooled by the opinions of friends and family. They’re all liars.
Scott Adams
Things that will someday work out well start out well. Things that will never work start out bad and stay that way.
Scott Adams
She leaves, carrying a biodegradable carrier bag that reads THE SUICIDE SHOP on one side, and on the other: HAS YOUR LIFE BEEN A FAILURE? LET’S MAKE YOUR DEATH A SUCCESS!
Jean Teulé
There isn’t a name for my situation. Firstly because I decided to kill myself. And then because of this idea:I don’t have to do it immediately.Whoosh, through a little door. It’s a limbo.I need never answer the phone again or pay a bill. My credit score no longer matters. Fears and compulsions don’t matter. Socks don’t matter. Because I’ll be dead. And who am I to die? A microwave chef. A writer of pamphlets. A product of our time. A failed student. A faulty man. A bad poet. An activist in two minds. A drinker of chocolate milk, and when there’s no chocolate, of strawberry and sometimes banana.
D.B.C. Pierre
Oh no!’ replies Monsieur Tuvache indignantly. ‘We’re not murderers, you know. You have to understand that’s prohibited. We supply what is needed but people do the deed themselves. It’s their affair. We are just here to offer a service by selling quality products,’ continues the shopkeeper, leading the customer towards the checkout.
Jean Teulé
Alan! How many more times do I have to tell you? We do not say “see you soon” to customers when they leave our shop. We say “goodbye”, because they won’t be coming back, ever. When will you get that into your thick head?
Jean Teulé
Nobody has ever killed themselves over a broken arm. But every day, thousands of people kill themselves because of a broken heart. Why? Because emotional pain hurts much worse than physical pain.
Oliver Markus
A bind is when you're quadriplegic, suicidal about that and unable to persuade your best friend to murder you.
Brian Spellman
Billions of years before twelve step groups, God committed shotgun suicide. Today wall scrapings share His gratitude stories.
Brian Spellman
You can't stop a man from stopping himself.
Brian Spellman
An ad for cigars appears in 100,000 newspapers; sales of that brand increase by 3% for a short time thereafter. A new play receives a viciously negative review in a theatrical journal that prints 500 copies; the playwright shoots himself. Who’s the better writer?
Jason Lutes
Babies are never suicidal. Hard lives, not hard boiled eggs do that.
Brian Spellman
The leave zipped right by. We were so terrifically glad to be back to our own little section of the trench, with all its happy memories, that we wouldn’t have traded places with anybody. The lazy bastard who’d filled in while we were away hadn’t managed to nibble away so much as an inch of garden soil in the direction of Berlin.We found out that Brugnon hadn’t come back from leave. He’d hanged himself in the stairwell of his building, on rue des Gâtines. He left a note to say he couldn’t take it any more and asked us to count him out. We accepted it… Who were we to judge?
Jacques Tardi
Months after my wrists ripping, a talk therapist referred to the act as self-hatred. Until then nobody had said this to me. Did everyone presume that I already knew so? People say it all the time. It’s safer to draw this conclusion. Throw in cowardice and you have an insulated public. I was not enraged at all. I was panic stricken. How could I hate myself for wanting to stop such physical sickness and terror? Mine was an act of caretaking, compassion, love. You cannot share this insight with therapists because they think such encourages recurrence. Have you ever stopped diarrhea with a prayer? If you have to go, you go. If you have to die, you die.
Brian Spellman
If you want to commit suicide why tell anyone? They'd ruin everything.
Brian Spellman
Dear Anyone Who Finds This, Do not blame the drugs.
Lynda Barry
The groove is so mysterious. We're born with it and we lose it and the world seems to split apart before our eyes into stupid and cool. When we get it back, the world unifies around us, and both stupid and cool fall away.I am grateful to those who are keepers of the groove. The babies and the grandmas who hang on to it and help us remember when we forget that any kind of dancing is better than no dancing at all.
Lynda Barry
The last time I saw Collin was in 1917, at the foot of Mort-Homme.Before the great slaughter, Collin’d been an avid angler. On that day, he was standing at the hole, watching maggots swarm among blow flies on two boys that we couldn’t retrieve for burial without putting our own lives at risk.And there, at the loop hole, he thought of his bamboo rods, his flies and the new reel he hadn’t even tried out yet.Collin was imaging himself on the riverbank, wine cooling in the current his stash of worms in a little metal box and a maggot on his hook, writhing like… Holy shit. Were the corpses getting to him?Collin. The poor guy didn’t even have time to sort out his thoughts. In that split second, he was turned into a slab of bloody meat. A white hot hook drilled right through him and churned through his guts, which spilled out of a hole in his belly.He was cleared out of the first aid station. The major did triage. Stomach wounds weren’t worth the trouble. There were all going to die anyway, and besides, he wasn’t equipped to deal with them.Behind the aid station, next to a pile of wood crosses, there was a heap of body parts and shapeless, oozing human debris laid out on stretchers, stirred only be passing rats and clusters of large white maggots. But on their last run, the stretcher bearers carried him out after all… Old Collin was still alive.From the aid station to the ambulance and from the ambulance to the hospital, all he could remember was his fall into that pit, with maggots swarming over the open wound he had become from head to toe… Come to think of it, where was his head? And what about his feet?In the ambulance, the bumps were so awful and the pain so intense that it would have been a relief to pass out. But he didn’t. He was still alive, writhing on his hook. They carved up old Collin good. They fixed him as best they could, but his hands and legs were gone. So much for fishing.Later, they pinned a medal on him, right there in that putrid recovery room.And later still, they explained to him about gangrene and bandages packed with larvae that feed on death tissue. He owed them his life. From one amputation and operation to the next – thirty-eight in all – the docs finally got him “back on his feet”. But by then, the war was long over.
Jacques Tardi