What are you doing with the child?" I inquired cautiously. "I'm teachin' young James here the fine art of not pissing on his feet," he explained.
Dreaming be damned, this is control. Raping your soul, devil's hole.
You can't make everyone happy right away, you can't figure out what people want you to do, you just have to do what you want to do and hope it works out.
I don't do anything for the money. I don't need to. I could have retired after White Zombie and been just fine. Money doesn't matter. But there is still a good living to be made, even in the niche. The funny thing is, as time goes on, the niche stuff gets bigger and bigger.
Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?
Sometimes, you just have to realize, I'm not doing stuff that is really mainstream stuff, and to try and put it out in a mainstream way is almost psychotic.
The only thing I ever really care about is animals - animal causes. I don't really care about people that much, but animals I feel like they always need to be protected.
Fame, they tell you, is air; but without air there is no life for any; without fame there is none for the best.
I just take fights that make me feel comfortable.
Burned and squashed to death in a silver vat of soup. There must be worst ways to go. But not many.
What is central to business is the joy of creating.