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2dcf794
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METAPHOR: A tightly fitting suit of metal, generally tin, which entirely encloses the wearer, both impeding free movement and preventing emotional expression and/or social contact.
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Chris Ware |
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6bee160
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I guess we all make choices as to how we want to live, right?
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Chris Ware |
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0f77dea
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The whole experience reminded me of my own 'old lady' phase that I went through in high school while I was reading Somerset Maugham... The embroidered sweaters, the costume jewelry... I remember genuinely WANTING to be old then, to act as if the business of my life was already all but over, and that I was preternaturally wise because of it... God, the stupid things you'll do to try and meet boys...
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Chris Ware |
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0014d90
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Every couple of years or so, when Daniel Clowes releases a new book, one can almost sense the rectal contraction across the collective seat of our humble profession.
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Chris Ware |
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36ed1c3
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This life we endure - how strange, yet how jolly
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jimmy-corrigan
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Chris Ware |
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b29b05a
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Every city began as a campsite - pg. 25
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Chris Ware |
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0ec6839
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Conveniently then he can forget it all exists. And, after a time only a general notion will remain in his mind, that there are places where he doesn't belong, and those where he seems to fall right in.
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jimmy-corrigan
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Chris Ware |
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ec04681
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It's somehow more comforting to imagine that one's suffering is unique, and to measure against what one doesn't know, rather than against what one does.
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Chris Ware |
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cbaf551
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Unlike prose writing, the strange process of writing with pictures encourages associations and recollections to accumulate literally in front of your eyes; people, places, and events appear out of nowhere. Doors open into rooms remembered from childhood, faces form into dead relatives, and distant loves appear, almost magically, on the page- all deceptively manageable, visceral, the combinations sometimes even revelatory.
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Chris Ware |
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1750403
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Newly Found Sugary Spill: Tastes Like Dried Spit or Old Soda
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gross
similes
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Chris Ware |
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6fbea1c
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The sound of One Lung filling with water drowned out by wave after wave of a million buzzing insects an invisible chorus that only knows how to sing the last letter of the alphabet.
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Chris Ware |
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9448056
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I mean, if all we are is bundles of energy... what is a 'hug' anyway?... and how can we ever really touch each other?
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Chris Ware |
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477c874
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Even the disappointing diffusion of a sheer curtain can suggest the most colorful bouquet of unspeakable secrets.
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Chris Ware |
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8dff37e
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the nest is agiggle with excitement.
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Chris Ware |