Quotes by Cartoonists - Page 19

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.

Never use naughtiness in mixed company, unless your witticism is so funny that your audience will shoot tears of happiness out of their eyes with a velocity sufficient to powerwash a small bus. Any joke that falls short of that standard will make you lose respect in the eyes of everyone except your best friends, who, as you know, lost respect for you long ago.

I thought about how all that mattered, in all entirety, and all I wanted, and all I could see anything being worth anything for, was being a writer.

Cats, of course, are easier to make fun of. The cutest cat is still a freak. Where
dogs are sympathetic, almost tragic, figures, cats are pure comedy. Dogs are your
buddies, cats are entertainment They're like a TV show. There's nothing funnier than when a cat falls off of something. When a dog falls down a couple of stairs, you rush to it and console it. But when a cat does it, it's funny—you point at it and laugh (which they don't like, incidentally).

That's the whole problem with science. You've got a bunch of empiricists trying to describe things of unimaginable wonder.

All surgery and no makeup make Jack a dull girl.

How many words are you having trouble with, sir?""Just the ones that I've highlighted.""I count at least a dozen, and I haven't gotten out of the first paragraph.""That's as far as I got, too. I'm not sure you and I speak the same language.

Hundreds of hysterical persons must confuse these phenomena with messages from the beyond and take their glory to the bishop rather than the eye doctor.

An apple a day feeds the tapeworm to stay.

Mom lied. The crust is the shittiest part.

If you have to dry the dishes (Such an awful boring chore)If you have to dry the dishes('Stead of going to the store)If you have to dry the dishesAnd you drop one on the floorMaybe they won't let youDry the dishes anymore

POOR ANGUSOh what do you do, poor Angus,When hunger makes you cry?"I fix myself an omelet, sir,Of fluffy clouds and sky."Oh what do you wear, poor Angus,When winds blow down the hills?"I sew myself a warm cloak, sir,Of hope and daffodils."Oh who do you love, poor Angus,When Catherine's left the moor?"Ah, then, sir, then's the only timeI feel I'm really poor.

Some fellows pay a compliment like they expected a receipt.

Malus: 'You look like a person with doubts.'Zoe: 'I wonder sometimes if any of this is real - or is it just a business, selling hope to people who can't afford it?'Malus: 'Clever people have been asking that question since the iron age, Zoe. The answer remains the same.'Zoe: 'And... ?'Malus: 'Business is good.'(A dialogue regarding the Church between a demon and a human.)

Eventually our whole world, every culture, will explode and we'll all just be fucking cosmic dust. We'll all dissipate. We'll all be nothing and everything. What's more spiritual than that?

When you don't have something anymore, you learn to live without it." That's what my dad told me that first night after he found me sleeping inside a closet underneath a pile of my mom's clothes. All the different smells of her were still there and the memories were alive even if she wasn't. I looked up into his face and wondered why would I ever want to learn to live without her? That felt like she really would be gone forever, and I wanted to limp on the broken piece of me so I could feel her there all the time.

Losers have goals. Winners have systems.

When you lose a friend [in battle] you have an overpowering desire to go back home and yell in everybody's ear, "This guy was killed fighting for you. Don't forget him--ever. Keep him in your mind when you wake up in the morning and when you go to bed at night. Don't think of him as the statistic which changes 38,788 casualties to 38,789. Think of him as a guy who wanted to live every bit as much as you do. Don't let him be just one of 'Our Brave Boys' from the old home town, to whom a marble monument is erected in the city park, and a civic-minded lady calls the newspaper ten years later and wants to know why that 'unsightly stone' isn't removed.

I'm a 21st-century kid trapped in a 19th-century family.

I find my life is a lot easier the lower I keep my expectations.