Jack Vettriano Between Darkness and Dawn

Jack Vettriano Between Darkness and DawnJack Vettriano Betrayal No Turning Back 2001Jack Vettriano Betrayal First Kiss 2001
of music,' said Ridcully. 'My word!'
'What I'd like to try,' said Ponder, 'is getting the musicians to play in front of a lot of strings like this. Perhaps we could trap the music.'to stop it, not make more of it.'
'What exactly is wrong with it?' said Ponder.
`It's . . . well, can't you see?' said Ridcully. 'It makes people act funny. Wear funny clothes. Be rude. Not do what they're told. I can't do a thing with them. It's not right. Besides . . . remember Mr Hong.'
'It's certainly very unusual,' said Ponder. 'Can we get some more? For study purposes? Archchancellor?'
Ridcully shrugged. ' We follow the Dean,' he said.
'Good grief,' breathed Buddy, in the huge echoing emptiness. 'No wonder they 'What for?' said Ridcully. ' What on Disc for?''Well . . . if you could get music in boxes you wouldn't need musicians any more.'Ridcully hesitated. There was a lot to be said for the idea. A world without musicians had a certain appeal. They were a scruffy bunch, in his experience. Quite unhygienic.He shook his head, reluctantly.`Not this sort of music,' he said. `We want

Jack Vettriano The Tourist Trap

Jack Vettriano The Tourist TrapJack Vettriano The TemptressJack Vettriano The Star Cafe
'It's, it's, it's a guitar, Archchancellor,' said the Dean, walking hurriedly backwards as Ridcully approached. 'I just bought it.'
'I can see that, I can the major seventh as a passing tone?' said the Dean.
The Archchancellor peered at the open page.
'But this says "Lesson One: Fairy Footsteps",' he said.
'Um, um, um, I was getting a bit impatient,' said the Dean.
'You've never been musical, Dean,' said Ridcully. 'It's one of your good points. Why the sudden interest ‑ what have you got on your feet?'hear that, what was it you were tryin' to do?''I was practising, er, riffs,' said the Dean. He waved a badly printed woodcut defensively in Ridcully's face.The Archchancellor grabbed it.'"Blert Wheedown's Guitar Primer",' he read. ' "Play your Way to Succefs in Three Easy Lefsons and Eighteen Hard Lefsons". Well? I've nothin' against guitars, pleasant airs, a‑spying young maidens one morning in May and so on, but that wasn't playin'. That was just noise. I mean, what was it supposed to be?''A lick based on an E pentatonic scale using

Edgar Degas After the Bath

Edgar Degas After the BathFrida Kahlo The FrameFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with NecklaceFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Monkeys
ornate frame around it, with a skulls‑and‑bones motif.
She pushed the like rock and it certainly wasn't wood. It made no sound when Susan walked on it. It was simply surface, in the purely geometrical sense.
The carpet had a skull‑and‑bones pattern.
It was also black. Everything was black, or a shade of grey. Here and there door open.This room could have housed a small town.A small area of carpet occupied the middle dis­tance, no more than a hectare in size. It took Susan several minutes to reach the edge.It was a room within a room. There was a large, heavy‑looking desk on a raised dais, with a leather swivel chair behind it. There was a large model of the Discworld, on a sort of ornament made of four elephants standing on the shell of a turtle. There were several bookshelves, the large volumes piled in the haphazard fashion of people who're far too busy using the books ever to arrange them properly. There was even a window, hanging in the air a few feet above the ground.But there were no walls. There was nothing between the edge of the carpet and the walls of the greater room except floor, and even that was far too precise a word for it. It didn't look

Francisco de Goya Clothed Maja

Francisco de Goya Clothed MajaEdgar Degas The RehearsalEdgar Degas The Bellelli FamilyEdgar Degas At the Races
Soul Cake Tuesday Duck didn't apparently have any kind of a home. Nor did Old Man Trouble or the Sandman, as far as she knew.
She walked around the house, which wasn't much larger than a cottage. Definitely. Whoever lived here had no taste at all.at it another way.
She tried to walk towards the nearest one, and gave up after a few wildly teetering steps. Finally she managed to reach it by taking aim and then shutting her eyes.
The door was at one and the same time about nor­mal human size and immensely She found the front door. It was black, with a knocker in the shape of an omega.Susan reached for it, but the door opened by itself.And the hall stretched away in front of her, far bigger than the outside of the house could possibly contain. She could distantly make out a stairway wide enough for the tap‑dancing finale in a musical.There was something else wrong with the per­spective. There clearly was a wall a long way off but, at the same time, it looked as though it was painted in the air a mere fifteen feet or so away. It was as if distance was optional.There was a large clock against one wall. Its slow tick filled the immense space.There's a room, she thought. I remember the room of whispers.Doors lined the hall at wide intervals. Or short intervals, if you looked

John Constable Flatford Mill

John Constable Flatford MillJohn William Waterhouse The Magic CircleJohn William Waterhouse PandoraJohn William Waterhouse Lamia
because you like Logic and Maths and don't like Language and History?'
Miss Butts concentrated. There was no way the child could have left the room. If she really stressed her mind, she could catch a . It was always raining in Llamedos. Rain was the country's main export. It had rain mines.
Imp the bard sat under the evergreen, more out of habit than any real hope that it would keep the rain off. Water just dribbled through the spiky leaves and formed rivulets down the twigs, so that it was really a sort of rain concentrator. Occasional lumps of rain would splat on to his head.
He was eighteen, extremely talented and, currently, not at ease with his life.suggestion of a voice saying, 'Don't know, Miss Butts.''Susan, it is really most upsetting when–’Miss Butts paused. She looked around the study, and then glanced at a note pinned to the papers in front of her. She appeared to read it, looked puzzled for a moment, and then rolled it up and dropped it into the wastepaper basket. She picked up a pen and, after staring into space for a moment, turned her attention to the school accounts.Susan waited politely for a while, and then got up and left as quietly as possible.Certain things have to happen before other things. Gods play games with the fates of men. But first they have to get all the pieces on the board, and look all over the place for the dice.It was raining in the small, mountainous country of Llamedos

Paul Cezanne A Modern Olympia

Paul Cezanne A Modern OlympiaLaurie Maitland Autumn SongWilliam Bouguereau YvonneWilliam Bouguereau Le Jour
Gaspode, crunching it up in his dreadful teeth. 'I'm brilliant. Brilliant.'
'You'd better pray Big Fido doesn't find out,' said Angua.
'Nah. He won'tAngua bounded up the stairs, and clawed open the nearest door.
It was Carrot's bedroom. The smell of him, a kind of golden-pink colour, filled it from edge to edge.
There was a drawing of a dwarf mine carefully pinned to one wall. Another held a large sheet of cheap paper on which had been drawn, in careful pencil line, with many crossings-out and smudges, a map touch me. I worry him. I've got the Power.' He scratched an ear vigorously. 'Look, you don't have to go back in there, we could go and—''No.'Story of my life,' said Gaspode. 'There's Gaspode. Give him a kick.'I thought you had this big happy family to go back to.' said Angua, as she pushed open the door.'Eh? Oh, yes. Right,' said Gaspode hurriedly. 'Yes. But I like my, sort of, independence. I could stroll back home like a shot, any time I wanted.'

Nicolas De Stael Fiesole 1953

Nicolas De Stael Fiesole 1953Nicolas De Stael Cap Gris-NezNicolas De Stael AgrigenteNicolas De Stael Agrigente 1953
a temple,' he said, and his voice boomed away into the distance.
'Writing here on wall,' said Detritus.
Cuddy peered at the letters hacked deeply into the stone.
' "VIA CLOACA",' slime.
' "Cirone IV me fabricat",' he read aloud. 'He was one of the early kings, wasn't he? Hey . . . do you know what that means?'
'No-one's been down here since yesterday,' said Detritus.
'No! This place . . . this place is more than two thousand years old. We're he said. 'Hmm. Well, now . . . via is an old word for street or way. Cloaca means . . .'He peered into the gloom.'This is a sewer,' he said.'What that?''It's like . . . well, where do trolls dump their . . . rubbish?' said Cuddy.'In street,' said Detritus. 'Hygienic.' 'This is . . . an underground street just for . . . well, for crap,' said Cuddy. 'I never knew Ankh-Morpork had them.''Maybe Ankh-Morpork didn't know Ankh-Morpork had them,' said Detritus.'Right. You're right. This place is old. We're in the bowels of the earth.''In Ankh-Morpork even the shit have a street to itself,' said Detritus, awe and wonder in his voice. 'Truly, this a land of opportunity.''Here's some more writing,' said Cuddy. He scraped away some

Amedeo Modigliani Seated Nude

Amedeo Modigliani Seated NudeAmedeo Modigliani Red NudeAmedeo Modigliani Portrait of Jeanne Hebuterne
'That's a long time.'
'But we've been working on the ivory for only a week and it's going very well!' said the alchemist quickly.
Except for some side . He nodded to a figure bent over a cue.
'Er, Mr Silverfish—' he began.
'Quiet! Game on!' said the head alchemist, squinting at the white ball.
Sendivoge glanced at the score rail.
'Twenty-one points,' he said. 'My word. Perhaps we're adding just the right amount of camphor to the nitro-cellulose after all—'
There was a click. The cue ball rolled away, bounced off the cushion—effects which we'll doubtless soon be able to sort out.'He pushed open a door.It was a large room, heavily outfitted with the usual badly ventilated furnaces, rows of bubbling crucibles, and one stuffed alligator. Things floated in jars. The air smelled of a limited life expectancy.A lot of equipment had been moved away, however, to make room for a billiard table. Half a dozen alchemists were standing around it in the manner of men poised to run.'It's the third this week,' said Sendivoge, gloomily

Sung Kim Palm Reflection

Sung Kim Palm ReflectionSung Kim Overlook Cafe IISung Kim Overlook Cafe I
yeah? you even know who your father is, do you?'
'—that, while you must certainly celebrate your proud ethnic folkways, to profit by the example of my fellow officers here, who have sunk their ancient differences—'
'—I smash you head, attention to him. He turned.
Sung Kim Escape
Lance-Constable Cuddy was upside down, because Lance-Constable Detritus was trying to bounce him on the cobbles by his helmet, although Lance-Constable Cuddy was putting the position to good effect by gripping Lance-Constable Detritus around the knee and trying to sink his teeth into Lance-Constable Detritus' ankle.
The opposing marchers watched in fascination.
'We should do something!' said Angua, from the guards' hiding place in the alley.
'Weeell,' said Sergeant Colon, slowly, 'it's always very tricky, ethnicyou roguesome dwarfs!''—for the greater benefit of—''—I could take you with one hand tied behind my back!''—the city, whose badge they are—'' —you get opportunity! I tie BOTH hands behind you back!''—proud and privileged to wear.''Aargh!''Ooow!'It dawned on Carrot that hardly anyone was paying any

Salvador Dali Tiger

Salvador Dali TigerSalvador Dali The Sacrament of the Last SupperSalvador Dali The RoseSalvador Dali Paysage aux papillons (Landscape with Butterflies)Salvador Dali Mirage
And no one even thought to leave a damn window
open! Can’t you hear them?”
“Hear what?”
Nanny looked around hurriedly and picked up a silver

candlestick.
Magrat snatched it out of her hand.
“This happens to be,” winding her arm back, “very nearly,”
taking aim, “Very slowly, she sat up. She focused on Magrat and
Nanny Ogg with some difficulty, and said:
“I wantzzz a bunzzch of flowerszz, a pot of honey, and
someone to szzzting.”my castle—“The candlestick flew up, turning end over end, and hit a big stained glass window right in the center.Fresh sunlight extruded down to the table, visibly mov-ing in the Disc’s slow magical field. And down it, like mar-bles down a chute, the bees cascaded.The swarm settled on the witch’s head, giving the impression of a very dangerous wig.“What did you—“ Ridcully began.“She’s going to swank about this for weeks,” said Nanny. “No one’s ever done it with bees. Their mind’s everywhere, see? Not just in one bee. In the whole swarm.”“What are you—“Granny Weatherwax’s fingers twitched.Her eyes flickered.

Mark Spain Night Light

Mark Spain Night LightMark Spain Forever YouMark Spain Flamenco II
wish the lady to come out,” it said. “You must say to her, if she does not come out, we will play with you some more.”
“What will you do to us if she does come out?” said Shawn.
“Oh, we shall still play with you,” said the elf. “That’s what makes it so much fun. But she must hope, must she not? Talk to her now.”
He was pushed up to the door. He knocked on it, in what he hoped was a respectful way.
223
Terry Pratehett
“Urn. Miss Queen?”
Magrat’s voice was muffled.
“Yes?”either side of the doorway, and one put his pointed ear to it.
Then it knelt down and peered through the keyhole, tak-ing care not to come too near the metal of the lock.
There was a sound no louder than a click. The elf remained motionless for a moment, and then keeled over gently, without a sound.“It’s me, Shawn.”“I know.”“I’m out here. Um. I think they’ve hurt Miss Tockley. Um. They say they’ll hurt me some more if you don’t come out. But you don’t have to come out because they daren’t come in there because of all the iron. So I shouldn’t listen to them if I was you.”There were some distant clankings, and then a twang.“Miss Magrat?”“Ask her,” said the elf, “if there is any food and water in there.”“Miss, they say—“One of the elves jerked him away. Two of them took up station

Pino First Glance

Pino First GlanceEdvard Munch The Girls on the BridgeMartin Johnson Heade Rio de Janeiro BayUnknown Artist Brent Lynch Coastal Drive
Terry Pratchett
with entire countries who get belligerent after one drink, and entire kingdoms who Have Broken Off Diplomatic Relations after what the Crown Prince Said About Our Sharon. Verence had managed to work that all out, but then there were the species to consider. Trolls and dwarfs got on all right in Lancre by the simple expedient of having nothing to do with one another, but too many of them under one roof, especially if drink was flowing, and espe-cially if it was flowing “They might give me answers. And then what would I do?”
“What did Granny want to talk to you about?”
“Oh . . . you know . .. things ...”
“It wasn’t about.. . sex, was it?”
Verence suddenly looked like a man who had been in the direction of the dwarfs, and people would Be Breaking People’s Arms Off because of what, more or less, Their Ancestors Said About Our Sharon.And then there’s other things .. .“How’s the girl they brought in?”“I’ve told Millie to keep an eye on her. What are they doing, those two?”“I don’t know.”You’re king, aren’t you?”Verence shifted uneasily.“But they’re witches. I don’t like to ask them questions.”“Why not?”

Thomas Kinkade Heather's Hutch

Thomas Kinkade Heather's HutchThomas Kinkade Forest ChapelThomas Kinkade End of a Perfect Day III
“You haven’t, have you? And then you think you can just stroll down here and confound this girl, just like that?”
“I don’t know,” said Granny Weatherwax.
Nanny Ogg looked hard at her.
72
LOR06 ft^D LftQ/£6
“You don’t, do you?” she said, in a softer tone of voice. “Oh, well . . . you better sit down here, before you fall down. Suck an .”
After some eye contact. Nanny Ogg ambled across the square and met Perdita in the middle. The young would-be witch looked worried under her makeup. She held a black lace handkerchief in her hands, and was twisting it nervously.
“Morning, Mrs. Ogg,” she said.
“Afternoon, Agnes.”
“Um. What happens now?”orange. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”“No she won’t,” said Granny “She’ll be late.”“How d’you know?”“No good making an entrance if everyone isn’t there to see you, is it? That’s headology.”In fact the young coven arrived at twenty past twelve, and took up station on the steps of the market pentangle on the other side of the square.“Look at ‘em,” said Granny Weatherwax. “All in black, again.”“Well, we wear black too,” said Nanny Ogg the reasonable.“Only ‘cos it’s respectable and serviceable,” said Granny morosely. “Not because it’s romantic. Hah. The Lords and Ladies might as well be here already

Johannes Vermeer Diana and her Companions

Johannes Vermeer Diana and her CompanionsJohannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and MarthaUnknown Artist warmth by volk
S'carrying something," he said eventually. "Sergeant? Go and bring that man here."
A few minutes later the sergeant returned.
"Says he'll meet you in the middle of the beach, sir," he reported.
"Didn't I tell you to bring him here?"
"He didn't want to come, sir."
"You've got a sword, haven't you?"
"Yessir. He was brought before a trestle table, behind which sat half a dozen large men in various military styles,
and one small olive-skinned man who was gutting a fish and grinning hopefully at everyone.
"Well, now," said Argavisti, "Cenobiarch of Omnia, eh?"
Brutha dropped Vorbis's body on to the sand. Their gaze followed it.
"I know him-” said Borvorius. "Vorbis! Someone Prodded him a bit, but he dint want to move, sir. And he's carrying a dead body, sir.""On a battlefield? It's not bring-your-own, you know.""And . . . sir?""What?""Says he's probably the Cenobiarch, sir. Wants to talk about a peace treaty.""Oh, he does? Peace treaty? We know about peace treaties with Omnia. Go and tell . . . no. Take a couple of men and bring him here."Brutha walked back between the soldiers, through the organized pandemonium of the camp. I ought to feel afraid, he thought. I was always afraid in the Citadel. But not now. This is through fear and out the other side.Occasionally one of the soldiers would give him a push. It's not allowed for an enemy to walk freely into a camp, even if he wants to.

Johannes Vermeer The Love letter

Johannes Vermeer The Love letterJohannes Vermeer The ConcertJohannes Vermeer Girl Reading a Letter at an Open Window
hunger. Om tried to encircle the pain, make it flow away . . . and not to think about what would happen if it went. By the feel of things, the lion had not eaten for days.
The lion grunted as Brutha withdrew the spearhead.
"Omnian," he shifting under his feet. The boulders formed a maze of half­-open tunnels and caves. By the smell, the lion had lived there for a long time, and had quite often been ill.
He stared at the nearest cave for some time.
"What's so fascinating about a lion's den?" said Om.
"The way it's got steps down into it, I think," said Bruthasaid. "It hasn't been there long. It must have met the soldiers when they were on the way to Ephebe. They must have passed close by." He tore another strip from his robe, and tried to clean the wound."We want to eat it, not cure it!" shouted Om. "What're you thinking of? You think it's going to be grateful?""It wanted to be helped.""And soon it will want to be fed, have you thought about that?""It's looking pathetically at me.""Probably never seen a week's meals all walking around on one pair of legs before."That wasn't true, Om reflected. Brutha was shedding weight like an ice-cube, out here in the desert. That kept him alive! The boy was a two-legged camel.Brutha crunched towards the rock pile, shards and bones

Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect Day

Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect DayThomas Kinkade Sunset at Riverbend FarmThomas Kinkade Seaside HideawayThomas Kinkade Pools of Serenity
I borrow the towel?"
"It's yours anyway, Mr. Legibus."
"Is it?"
"I said, you left it here last time. Remember? When you had that idea for the lighthouse?"
"Fine. Fine," said Legibus, wrapping the towel around himself. He drew a few more lines on the wall. "Fine. Okay. I'll send someone down later to collect the wall."
He turned and appeared to see the Omnians for the first time. He peered forward and then shrugged.
"Hmm," he said, and wandered away.
Brutha tugged at you think you've got a bright idea, you don't want to do it somewhere cold. If you do do it somewhere cold, you die out. That's natural selection, that is. Ephebe's known for its philosophers. It's better than street theater."
"What, a lot of old men running around the streets with no clothes on?" said Brutha, under his breath, as they were marched onward.
"More or less. If you spend your whole time thinking about the universethe cloak of one of the Ephebian soldiers."Excuse me, but why did we stop?" he said."Philosophers have right of way," said the soldier."What's a philosopher?" said Brutha."Someone who's bright enough to find a job with no heavy lifting," said a voice in his head."An infidel seeking the just fate he shall surely receive,' said Vorbis. "An inventor of fallacies. This cursed city attracts them like a dung heap attracts flies.""Actually, it's the climate," said the voice of the tortoise. "Think about it. If you're inclined to leap out of your bath and run down the street every time

Titian Sacred and Profane Love

Titian Sacred and Profane LoveFrancisco de Goya The ParasolBartolome Esteban Murillo Madonna and Child
We have one!"
Instinctively, every masked figure turned to look at the drawing on the wall, indistinct in the firelight but graven on, which is like pouring water onto a pond. It didn't seem to make any difference, anyway. The beetle plodded away.
He cursed a melon unto the eighth generation, but nothing happened. He tried a plague of boils. The melon just sat there, ripening slightly. their minds. They were looking at the truth, which can often impress."The Turtle Moves!""The Turtle Moves!""The Turtle Moves!"The leader nodded."And now," he said, "we will draw lots . . ." The Great God Om waxed wroth, or at least made a spirited attempt. There is a limit to the amount of wroth that can be waxed one inch from the ground, but he was right up against it.He silently cursed a beetle

Edgar Degas The Rehearsal

Edgar Degas The RehearsalEdgar Degas The Bellelli FamilyEdgar Degas At the Races
soil in the whole country, either."
"Off you go, then," said the abbot.
"I shall takeIt was the Year of the Notional Serpent, or two hundred years after the Declaration of the Prophet Abbys.
Which meant that the time of the 8th Prophet was imminent.
That was the reliable thing about the Church of the Great God Om. It had very punctual prophets. You could set your calendar by them, if you had one big enough.
And, as is generally the case around the time a prophet is expected, the Church redoubled its efforts to be holy. This was very much like the bustle you get in any large concern when the auditors are expected my mountains," said Lu-Tze. "The climate will be good for them."And he also took his broom and his sleeping mat. The history monks don't go in for possessions. They find most things wear out in a century or two.It took him four years to get to Omnia. He had to watch a couple of battles and an assassination on the way, otherwise they would just have been random events.

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at Valencia

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at ValenciaAlexandre Cabanel HarmonyThomas Gainsborough Shepherd Boys with Dogs Fighting
happened before,' said Rincewind. 'Went on for thousands of years until not a-’
'Do you know what's odd about that heap of stone?' said Conina.
Rincewind glanced at it. He screwed up his eyes.
'What, apart from'Your hair,' said the Seriph, rocking slowly forward again, 'is like, is like a flock of goats that graze upon the side of Mount Gebra.'
'Look here
'Your breasts are like, like,' the Seriph swayed sideways a little, and gave a brief, sorrowful glance at the empty bottle, 'are like the jewelled melons in the fabled gardens of dawn.'
Conina's eyes widened. 'They are?' she said. the legs?' he said.It took several minutes to dig the Seriph out. He was still clutching a wine bottle, which was almost empty, and blinked at them all in vague recognition.'Powerful,' he said, and then after some effort added, 'stuff, this vintage. Felt,' he continued, 'as though the place fell on me.''It did,' said Rincewind.'Ah. That would be it, then.' Creosote focused on Conina, after several attempts, and rocked backwards. 'My word,' he said, 'the young lady again. Very impressive.''I say-’ Nijel began.

Thomas Kinkade The Aspen Chapel

Thomas Kinkade The Aspen ChapelFabian Perez Rojo Sillion III Second StateFabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires II
brow furrowed. Why didn't he feel happy about it?
Because it's the wrong bloody decision, you idiot.
Right, he thought, I've had enough voices in my head. Out.
But I belong here.
You mean you're me?
Your Right. Aeons. Go back aeons to the time when raw magic ruled. The whole framework of reality trembled daily. It was pretty terrible, I can tell me.
How do I know?
Racial memory.
Gosh. Have I got one of those?
Well. A part of one.conscience.Oh.You can't let the hat be destroyed. It's the symbol ...... all right, I know ...... the symbol of magic under the Lore. Magic under the control of mankind. You don't want to go back to those dark Ians ...... What? ...Ians ...Do I mean aeons?