“In this pause, I suddenly saw something very clearly. Whatever it was I wanted from my mother was simply not there to… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
Yeah, I read Judy Blume. My mother didn't like that, but I read it anyhow. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
My mother is, my father certainly was. They were kind of the local intelligentsia in the town where I grew up. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
I'd been upstaged, demoted from protagonist in my own drama to comic relief in my parents' tragedy — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
If there was ever a bigger pansy than my father, it was Marcel Proust. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
I grew to resent the way my father treated his furniture like children, and his children like furniture. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
“Perhaps I identify too well with my father's illicit awe. A trace of this seems caught in the photo, just as a… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
“I have never read Sylvia Plath. My mother has never read Virginia Woolf. In general, we have stayed out of one another's… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
Although I am good at enumerating my father’s flaws, it’s hard for me to sustain much anger at him. I expect this… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
My father once nearly came to blows with a female dinner guest about whether a particular patch of embroidery was fuchsia or… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
Watching everyone root through their psyche, it just delights me. Especially R. Crumb's stuff. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
It's imprecise and insufficient, defining the homosexual as a person whose gender expression is at odds with his or her sex. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
The writing is hard, and the drawing is fun. It's very satisfying to see a drawing start to come together. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
“My homosexuality remained at that point purely theoretical, an untested hypothesis. But it was a hypothesise so thorough and so convincing I saw no… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
“I put the odds on a psychic deathmatch between Attila the Hun and Virginia Woolf at fifty-fifty.” — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
Basically, my work is play. It never actually feels that way - I'm always aiming to attain that state. But I get to do… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
It was a vicious cycle, though. The more gratification we found in our own geniuses, the more isolated we grew. — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
“Then there were those famous wings. Was Daedalus really stricken with grief when Icarus fell into the sea? Or just disappointed by the design… — Alison Bechdel Copy Share Image
