Infidel, Astro City: Samaritan
Kurt Busiek, writer, Brent Anderson, artist
“And in the lands that lie beneath reality, the lands that the scholars of Leugina call the plains of Geth… we faced each other, and knew. It was a waste of his time confining me, for I would ever escape. It was a waste of my time to fight him, for I could no more destroy him than he could destroy me. And so we asked ourselves. Silently, without words. It was in the set of his shoulders. The look in my eyes, perhaps.

“What now?”

Lem Taylor, Bluesman Book Three
Rob Vollmar, writer, Pablo Callejo, artist
“What is it?”
“My ride.”
“What are you talking about? What ride?”
“A chariot to be precise…”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s a contract, sheriff. A contract just like any other. ‘Cept it’s written in blood and signed by my hand. You sit tight and it’ll all be over ‘fore you know it.”
“You can’t leave me here alone!”
“He didn’t spare you just to kill you, sheriff.”

Mr. Jenkins, Day 8
Damian Duffy & Deborah Grison, writers, John Jennings, artist
While Day 8 is not a silent comic, the character of Mr. Jenkins is much better defined by his actions than by any one thing he says, in my humble opinion. Read the webcomic and see if you agree.

New American, The American Way
John Ridley, writer, Georges Jeanty & Karl Story, artists
“Man, I love you liberal whites. Just give everybody a hug, the world’ll be fine.”
“A world full of retribution killings isn’t one I want my son growing up in. There’s still a chance for us to do better. To give people… hope.”
“Hope? You can barely say the word. When I met you I thought you were full of s—. I find out you really are, I don’t care about consequences. There’s gonna be trouble, and I’m bringing it.”

Stagger Lee, Stagger Lee
Derek McCulloch, writer, Shepherd Hendrix, artist
“I’ve been a wreck. Useless to you. I don’t know what to do. She’ll be back tomorrow, if she was ever really gone. What will I say to her?”
“Boy, they teach you to whine like this in that school you went to? Looka here. Ain’t much we get to pick and choose about in this world. If she the fine lady you say she is, and she come back to you… then what in hell it matter where she been?

“Count the blessin’s you got, man.”