My art school rejection letter arrived as a cold manila fist that closed around my fragile hopes. When I closed my eyes, I saw the little animation from my TV favorite The Prisoner; Patrick McGoohan’s scowling Buddha face inflating to fill the screen before two iron gates closed across it, eternally barring his escape. I imagined the walls of my room extending to the infinite horizon.
From Grant Morrison’s Supergods.
I remember being rejected from Glasgow School of Art, a year before I got accepted to Grays School of Art in Aberdeen; I’m not sure that my mind invoked The Prisoner (Although I had just recently discovered that show, and become a fan), but the sense of frustration and hopelessness in the (melodramatic) passage above definitely seems very familiar to me.