Adrian Tomine can draw, think, write and feel. He sees everything, he knows everything; he’s in your apartment, he’s on the subway, he’s in your dreams. He knows about aging baseball fans and delusional horticulturists, he knows hapless fathers and awkward nerd-girl stand-ups, he knows the single and the married, the mad and the sane, knows when to use a speech a bubble and when silence is enough. He has more ideas in twenty panels than novelists have in a lifetime. 

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