William Bouguereau Young Gypsies

William Bouguereau Young Gypsies
John Collier A Devonshire OrchardCao Yong Red UmbrellaCao Yong GARDEN BEAUTIESCao Yong Freedom
Who are?’
‘The stars!’
The wizards, as one man, looked upwards.
‘No, they’re not,’ said the Dean, but the boy had shaken himself free and disappeared in the press of people.
‘Strange primitive superstition,’ said the Dean, and the wizards, with the exception of Poons, who was complain­ing and flailing around with his stick, craned forward to see.

The Bursar met the Archchancellor in a corridor.
‘There’s no‑one in the Uncommon Room!’ screamed the Bursar.
‘The There was a distant whumm . . . whumm noise, and the sound of pellets bouncing off the wall.
‘Always the same direction,’ the Bursar muttered.
‘What direction is that, then?’
‘The direction They’ll be coming from! I think I’m going mad!’
‘Now, now,’ said the Archchancellor, patting him on the shoulder. ‘You don’t want to go around talking like that. That’s crazy talk.’Library’s empty!’ bellowed the Archchancellor.‘I’ve heard about that sort of thing,’ the Bursar whim­pered. ‘Spontaneous something‑or‑other. They’ve all gone spontaneous!’‘Calm down, man. Just because‑‘‘I can’t even find any of the servants! You know what happens when reality gives way! Even now giant tentacles are probably‑‘

Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a Table

Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a TableJuan Gris Guitar with ClarinetJuan Gris Guitar on a TableJuan Gris Guitar and Music PapeJuan Gris Fantomas Pipe and Newspaper
She’s not my girlfriend!’
‘Would‑be girlfriend,’ said Gaspode, ‘is goin’ out every night and tryin’ to open that door in the hill. She tried it again last night, after you’d gone. I saw her. I stopped her,’ he added, defiantly. ‘Not that I expect any credit, of course. There’s some dretful in there, an’ she’s lettin’ it out. No wonder she’s always late and tired in the mornings, what with spendin’ the whole night diggin’.’
‘How do you know they’re dreadful?’said Victor weakly.
‘Put it like Exactly how, though? thought Victor, as they trudged out into the sunshine. Excuse me, miss, my dog says that you . . . no. I say, Ginger, I understand that you’re going out and . . . no. Hey, Ginj, how come my dog saw . . . no.
Perhaps he should just start up a conversation and wait until it got around naturally to monstrosities from Beyond the Void.this,’ said Gaspode. ‘If something’s shoved in a cave under a hill behind great big doors, it’s not ‘cos people want it to come out every night to wash the dishes, is it? ‘Corse,’ he added charitably, ‘I’m not sayin’ she knows she’s doing it. Prob’ly they’ve got a grip of her weak an’ feeble cat‑lovin’ female mind and are twisting it to their evil will.’‘You do talk a lot of crap sometimes,’ said Victor, but he didn’t sound very convincing even to himself.‘Ask her, then,’ said the dog, smugly.‘I will!’‘Right!’

Edward Hopper The Lighthouse at Two Lights

Edward Hopper The Lighthouse at Two LightsEdward Hopper Tables for LadiesEdward Hopper Sunlight in a CafeteriaEdward Hopper Summer InteriorEdward Hopper Sailing
The duck quacked at length.
‘Hold it,’ said Gaspode. ‘The thing is, the duck says,’ said Gaspode, ‘that all this is part of the same thing. Humans and trolls and everything coming here. Animals suddenly talking. The duck says he thinks it’s caused by welcomed in Holy Wood. It probably wasn’t a good idea to mention the University, or his small part in it. ‘That is,’ he continued, choosing his words with care, ‘I think I know someone in AnkhMorpork who might be able to read it. He’s an animal, too. An ape.’
‘How’s he in the mysterious senses department?’ said Gaspode. something here.’ ‘How does a duck know that?’ said Victor. ‘Look, friend,’ said the rabbit, ‘when you can fly all the way across the sea and even end up finding the same bloody continent, you can start badmouthing ducks.’ ‘Oh,’ said Victor. ‘You mean mysterious animal senses, yes?’ They glared at him. ‘Anyway, it’s got to stop,’ said Gaspode. ‘All this cogitatin’ and talkin’ is all -right for you humans. You’re used to it. Fing is, see, someone’s got to find out what’s causin’ all this . . . ‘ They carried on glaring at him. ‘Well,’ he said, vaguely, ‘maybe the book can help? The early bits are in some sort of ancient language. I can’t-,’ he paused. Wizards weren’t

Juan Gris Man in the Cafe

Juan Gris Man in the CafeJuan Gris Landscape with Houses at CeretGeorge Bellows Club NightCaravaggio The Seven Acts of MercyCaravaggio The Lute Player
men, with beards that weren’t really beards but more like groups of individual hairs clustering together for mutual protection, and many of them had that vague, unworldly expression that you get from spending too much time in the presence of boiling mercury.
It wasn’t relaxed attitude to potassium cyanide, for example, or had distilled some interesting fungi, drunk the result, and then stepped off the roof to play with the fairies. There weren’t actually very many widows and orphans, of course, because alchemists found it difficult to relate to other people long enough, and generally if they ever managed to marry it was only to have someone to hold their crucibles.
By and large, the only skill the alchemists of Ankh-Morpork had discovered so far was the ability to turn gold into less gold.
Until now . . . that alchemists hated other alchemists. They often didn’t notice them, or thought they were walruses. And so their tiny, despised Guild had never aspired to the powerful status of the Guilds of, say, the Thieves or the Beggars or the Assassins, but devoted itself instead to the aid of widows and families of those alchemists who had taken an overly

Unknown Artist jasper johns Target with Four Faces

Unknown Artist jasper johns Target with Four FacesSalvador Dali ArgusJohannes Vermeer The Little StreetJohannes Vermeer Mistress and MaidUnknown Artist Vanitas Still Life
Old Kingdom lay stretched out before Teppic, and it was unreal.
He looked at You Bastard, who had stuck his muzzle in a wayside spring and was making a noise like the last drop in the milkshake glass.* (* You know. The bit you can't reach with the straw.) You Bastard looked real enough. There's nothing like a camel for looking really solid. But the landscape had an uncertain quality, as if it hadn't quite He watched the gods for a while, wondering what the hell they were, and how it didn't seem to matter. They looked no more real than the land over which they strode, about incomprehensible errands of their own. The world was no more than a dream. Teppic felt incapable of surprise. If seven fat cows had wandered by, he wouldn't have given them a second glance.made up its mind to be there or not. Except for the Great Pyramid. It squatted in the middle distance as real as the pin that nails a butterfly to a board. It was contriving to look extremely solid, as though it was sucking all the solidity out of the landscape into itself. Well, he was here. Wherever here was. How did you kill a pyramid? And what would happen if you did? He was working on the hypothesis that everything would snap back into place. Into the Old Kingdom's pool of recirculated time.

Pino remember when

Pino remember whenPablo Picasso Three WomenPablo Picasso Seated BatherPablo Picasso Mandolin and GuitarPablo Picasso Girl Before a Mirror
enough. When it comes to making a loss, we'll be in the lead,' said IIa sourly.
'It'd practically glow! In millennia to come people will look at it and say "That Ptaclusp, he knew his pyramids all right".'staring out at the yard, where, under the glow of torches, the staff were doing a feverish stocktaking.
It'd been a small business when father passed it on to him - just a yard full of blocks and various sphinxes, needles, steles and other stock items, and a thick stack of unpaid bills, most of them addressed to the palace and respectfully pointing out that our esteemed account presented nine hundred years ago appeared to have been overlooked and prompt settlement would oblige. But it had been fun in those days. There was just him, five thousand labourers, and Mrs Ptaclusp doing the books. 'They'll call it Ptaclusp's Folly, you mean!' By now the brothers were both standing up, their noses a few inches apart. 'The trouble with you, sibling, is that you know the cost of everything and the value of nothing!' 'The trouble with you is - is - is that you don't!' 'Mankind must strive ever upwards!' 'Yes, on a sound financial footing, by Khuft!' 'The search for knowledge-' 'The search for probity-' Ptaclusp left them to it and stood

Salvador Dali The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory

Salvador Dali The Disintegration of the Persistence of MemorySalvador Dali The CrucifixionMark Rothko Orange and YellowWassily Kandinsky Red OvalVincent van Gogh Two Cypresses
Inside this little world they had taken pains to put all the things, you might think they would want to escape from – hatred, fear, tyranny, and so forth. Death was intrigued. They thought they wanted to be taken out of themselves, . Now!' Death entered, his feet clicking across the stage. COWER NOW, BRIEF MORTALS, he said, FOR I AM DEATH, 'GAINST WHOM NO . . . NO . . . 'GAINST WHOM . . .
He hesitated. He hesitated, for the very first time in the eternity of his existence.and every art humans dreamt up took them further in. He was fascinated.He was here for a very particular and precise purpose. There was a soul to be claimed. There was no time for inconsequentialities. But what was time, after all?His feet did an involuntary little clicking dance across the stones. Alone, in the grey shadows, Death tapdanced.—THE NEXT NIGHT IN YOUR DRESSING ROOM THEY HANG A STAR—He pulled himself together, adjusted his scythe, and waited silently for his cue.He'd never missed one yet.He was going to get out there and slay them. 'And you can be Death itself to him

Leroy Neiman Casino

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Student Fools were allowed out, in the last year of training, but under a fearsome set of restrictions. Capering miserably through the streets he'd seen wizards for the first time, moving like dignified carnival floats. He'd seen the because grandfather would have flayed him alive if he didn't. He memorised the authorised jokes until his head rang, and got up even earlier in the morning to juggle until his elbows creaked. He had perfected his grasp of the comic vocabulary until only the very senior Lords could understand him. He'd capered and clowned with an impenetrable grim determination and he'd graduated top of his year and had been awarded the Bladder of Honour. He'd dropped it down the surviving assassins, foppish, giggling young men in black silk, as sharp as knives underneath; he'd seen priests, their fantastic costumes only slightly marred by the long rubber sacrificial aprons they wore for major services. Every trade and profession had its costume, he saw, and he realised for the first time that the uniform he was wearing had been carefully and meticulously designed for no other purpose than making its wearer look like a complete and utter pillock.Even so, he'd persevered. He'd spent his whole life persevering.He persevered precisely because he had absolutely no talent, and

Arthur Hughes La Belle Dame Sans Merci

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didn't appear to have the required effect. Nanny was staring around the dungeon with the vaguely interested gaze of a sightseer.
'And then you will be burned,' said the duchess.
'Okay,' said Nanny.
'Okay?'
'Well, it's bloody freezing down here. What's that big wardrobe thing with the spikes?'
The duke was trembling. 'Aha,' he said. 'Now you realise, eh? That, my dear lady, is an Iron Maiden. It's the latest thing. Well may you—'
'Can I have a go in it?'
'Your pleas fall on deaf . . . ' The duke's voice trailed off. His twitch started up.
The '. . .the faces . . . wicked lies . . . I wasn't there, and anyway he fell . . . my porridge, all salty . . .' murmured the duke, swaying.duchess leaned forward until her big red face was inches away from Nanny's nose.'This insouciance gives you pleasure,' she hissed, 'but soon you will laugh on the other side of your face!''It's only got this side,' said Nanny.The duchess fingered a tray of implements lovingly. 'We shall see,' she said, picking up a pair of pliers.'And you need not think any others of your people will come to your aid,' said the duke, who was sweating despite the chill. 'We alone hold the keys to this dungeon. Ha ha. You will be an example to all those who have been spreading malicious rumours about me. Do not protest your innocence! I hear the voices all the time, lying . . . 'The duchess gripped him ferociously by the arm. 'Enough,' she rasped. 'Come, Leonal. We will let her reflect on her fate for a while.'
The door slammed behind them. There was a click of locks and a thudding of bolts.

Edward Hopper Morning in a City

Edward Hopper Morning in a CityEdward Hopper High NoonEdward Hopper Four Lane RoadEdward Hopper Excursion into PhilosophyEdward Hopper Drug Store
The child gurgled in its sleep. Granny Weatherwax didn't hold with looking at the future, but now she could feel the future looking at her.
She didn't like its expression at all.
King Verence was looking at the past, and had formed pretty much the same view.
'You can see me?' he said.
'Oh, yes. Quite clearly, in fact,' said the newcomer.
Verence's brows knotted. Being a ghost seemed to require considerably more mental effort than being alive; he'd managed quite well for forty years without having to think more than once or twice a day, and now he was doing it all me time.
'Ah,' he said. 'You're a ghost, too.'
'Well 'A thousand years!'
'I built this place, in fact. Just got it nicely decorated when my nephew cut my head off while I was asleep. I can't tell you how much that upset me.'
'But . . . a thousand years . . .' Verence repeated, weakly.spotted.''It was the head under your arm,' said Verence, pleased with himself. 'That gave me a clue.''Does it bother you? I can put it back on if it bothers you,' said the old ghost helpfully. He extended his free hand. 'Pleased to meet you. I'm Champot, King of Lancre.''Verence. Likewise.' He peered down at the old king's features and added, 'Don't seem to recall seeing your picture in the Long Gallery . . .''Oh, all that was after my time,' said Champot dismissively.'How long have you been here, then?'Champot reached down and rubbed his nose. 'About a thousand years,' he said, his voice tinged with pride. 'Man and ghost.'

Diego Rivera View of Toledo

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glanced at the small wooden punnet in the wizard's hands.
'In mid-winter?'
'Actually, they're sprouts with a dash of enchantment.'
They taste like strawberries?'
Cutwell mind, it's you again, pointing out to yourself that the chances of the princess even contemplating you know with this fellow are on the far side of remote.
Go away, thought Mort. His subconscious was worrying him. It appeared to have a direct line to parts of his body that he wanted to ignore at the moment.
'Why are you here?' he said aloud. 'Is it something to do with all these pictures?'sighed. 'No, like sprouts. The spell isn't totally efficient. I thought they might cheer the princess up, but she threw them at me. Shame to waste them. Be my guest.'Mort gaped at him.'She threw them at you?''Very accurately, I'm afraid. Very strong-minded young lady.'Hi, said a voice in the back of Mort's

Edward Hopper Chair Car

Edward Hopper Chair CarEdward Hopper A Woman in the SunUnknown Artist Mary Magdalene at the Tomb
know,' she said, 'but I'm going to stay.'
'You can't do that! I mean —' he fumbled for words – 'you see, if you stay you sort of spread out and get thinner, until —'
'I shall enjoy it,' she said firmly. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss as insubstantial as a mayfly's sigh, fading as she did so until only the kiss was left, just like a Cheshire cat only much more erotic.
'Have a The glass itself was patterned with lotus petals. When Mort flicked it with his finger it went 'Ommm'.
He ran across the crackling snow to Binky and hurled himself into the saddle. The horse threw up his head, reared, and launched itself towards the stars.

Great silent streamers of blue and green flame hung from the roof of the world. Curtains of octarine glocare, Mort,' said her voice in his head. 'You may want to hold on to your job, but will you ever be able to let go?'Mort stood idiotically holding his cheek. The trees around the clearing trembled for a moment, there was the sound of laughter on the breeze, and then the freezing silence closed in again.Duty called out to him through the pink mists in his head. He grabbed the second glass and stared at it. The sand was nearly all gone.w danced slowly and majestically over the Disc as the fire of the Aurora Coriolis, the vast discharge

Jean-Leon Gerome Pygmalion and Galatea

Jean-Leon Gerome Pygmalion and GalateaVincent van Gogh IrisesWassily Kandinsky Farbstudie Quadrate
HARM DONE, I AM SURE. The skull looked around and seemed to see Lezek, who appeared to be frozen to the spot, for the first time. Mort thought an explanation was called for.
'My father,' he said, trying to move protectively in front of Exhibit A without causing any offence. 'Excuse me, sir, but are FOR.
'Me?'
YOU ARE HERE SEEKING EMPLOYMENT?
Light dawned on Mort. 'You are looking for an apprentice?' he said.
The eyesockets turned towards him, their actinic pinpoints flaring.
OF COURSE.you Death?'CORRECT. FULL MARKS FOR OBSERVATION, THAT BOY.Mort swallowed.'My father is a good man,' he said. He thought for a while, and added, 'Quite good. I'd rather you left him alone, if it's all the same to you. I don't know what you have done to him, but I'd like you to stop it. No offence meant.'Death stepped back, his skull on one side.I HAVE MERELY PUT US OUTSIDE TIME FOR A MOMENT, he said. HE WILL SEE AND HEAR NOTHING THAT DISTURBS HIM. NO, BOY, IT WAS YOU I CAME

Henri Matisse The Window

Henri Matisse The WindowHenri Matisse The Green LineHenri Matisse Red Fish
Simon talked on, about the world being made up of tiny things whose presence could only be determined by the fact that they were not there, little spinning balls of nothingness that magic could shunt together to make stars and butterflies and diamonds. Everything was made up of emptiness.
The funny and the creatures vanished, turning into perfectly harmless shadows that lurked in the corners of the room.
At some time in the recent past someone had decided to brighten the ancient corridors of the University by painting them, having some vague notion that Learning Should Be Fun. It hadn't thing was, he seemed to find this fascinating. Esk was only aware that the walls of the room grew as thin and insubstantial as smoke, as if the emptiness in them was expanding to swallow whatever it was that defined them as walls, and instead there was nothing but the familiar cold, empty, glittering plain with its distant worn hills, and the creatures that stood as still as statues, looking down. There were a lot more of them now. They seemed for all the world to be clustering like moths around a light. One important difference was that a moth's face, even close up, was as friendly as a bunny rabbit's compared to the things watching Simon. Then a servant came in to light the lamps

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)Gustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil)Gustav Klimt Hygieia (II)
themselves as it were, are quite resistant to magic but her expression looked as though she was trying to weld his eyeballs to the back of his skull.
"Just repair it," she hissed. "Please?"
"What, . Her pupils were two little black holes.
"Oh," said the dwarf. "Right, then."
Gander the trail boss was a worried man.
They were three mornings out from Zemphis, making good time, and were climbing now towards the rocky pass through the mountains known as the Paps of Scilla (there were eight of them;
make a bodge job?" said the dwarf, his pipe clattering to the floor. "Yes." "Patch it up, you mean? Betray my training by doing half a job?" "Yes," said Granny

Rembrandt rembrandt nightwatch painting

Rembrandt rembrandt nightwatch paintingRaphael The Sistine MadonnaWilliam Bouguereau BiblisWilliam Bouguereau Nymphs and Satyr.
creature called the Swarm, in the same way that individual bees are component cells of the hivemind. Granny didn't mingle her thoughts with the bees very often, partly because insect minds were strange, alien things that tasted of tin, but mostly because she suspected that the Swarm was a good deal more intelligent than she was.
She knew that the drones would soon reach the wild bee colonies in the deep forest, and within hours every corner of the mountain meadows would be under very close scrutiny indeed. All she could do was wait.
At noon she snapped. "It's just that I haven't got the time to mess around. You must know where she is. I command you to take me to her!"
The staff regarded her woodenly.
"By -" Granny paused, her invocations were a little rusty, "- by stock and stone I order it!"
Activity, movement, liveliness - all these words would be completely inaccurate descriptions the drones returned, and Granny read in the sharp acid thoughts of the hivemind that there was no sign of Esk. She went back into the cool of the cottage and sat down in the rocking chair, staring at the doorway. She knew what the next step was. She hated the very idea of it. But she fetched a short ladder, climbed up creakily on to the roof, and pulled the staff from its hiding place in the thatch. It was icy cold. It steamed. "Above the snowline, then," said Granny. She climbed down, and rammed the staff into a flowerbed. She glared at it. She had a nasty feeling that it was glaring back. "Don't think you've won, because you haven't,"

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)

Gustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil)Gustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil)Gustav Klimt Hygieia (II)
Esk's lips started to shape themselves around the D, but she caught Granny's eye and stopped, and thought.
"All the grown ups I know are married," she said at last, and thought some more. "Except you," she added, cautiously.
"That's true," said Granny.
"Didn't you want to get married?"
It was Granny's turn to think.
"Never got around to it," she said at last. "Too many other things to do, you see."
"Father says you're a witch," said Esk, chancing her arm.
"I am that."
Esk nodded. In the Ramtops witches were accorded a status similar to that which other cultures gave to nuns, or tax collectors, or cesspit cleaners. That is to say, they were respected, sometimes admired, generally applauded for doing a job which logically had to be-done, but people never felt quite comfortable in the same room with !"
Smith backed away across his forge, hands half-raised to ward off the old woman's fury. She advanced on him, one finger stabbing the air righteously.them. Granny said, "Would you like to learn the witching?" "Magic, you mean?" asked Esk, her eyes lighting up. "Yes, magic. But not firework magic. Real magic." "Can you fly?" "There's better things than flying." "And I can learn them?" "If your parents say yes." Esk sighed. "My father won't." "Then I shall have a word with him," said Granny. "Now you just listen to me, Gordo Smith

Thomas Kinkade bloomsbury cafe

Thomas Kinkade bloomsbury cafeEdward Hopper The Martha McKeen of WellfleetEdward Hopper Rocks and SeaEdward Hopper Railroad Crossing
'He said no.'
'Typical of the boy.'
'Um, who is in there?' said Rincewind.
'The Masters of Wizardry,' said the voice, haughtily.
'Why?'
There was another pause, and then a conference of embarrassed whispers.
'We, uh, got locked in,' said the voice, reluctantly.
'What, with the Octavo?'
Whisper, whisper.
'The Octavo, in fact, isn't in here, in fact,' said the voice slowly.
'Oh. But you are?' said Rincewind, as politely as possible while grinning like a necrophiliac in a morgue.
'That would typical, isn't it? Old Rincewind won't have any ideas, will he? Oh, no, he's just a makeweight, he is. Kick him as you pass. Don't rely on him, he's —'
'All right,' said Bethan. 'Let's hear it, then.'
'— a nonentity, a failure, just a – what?'appear to be the case.''Is there anything we can get you?' said Twoflower anxiously.'You could try getting us out.''Could we pick the lock?' said Bethan.'No use,' said Rincewind. 'Totally thief-proof.''I expect Cohen would have been able to,' said Bethan loyally. 'Wherever he's got to.''The Luggage would soon smash it down,' agreed Twoflower.'Well, that's it then,' said Bethan. 'Let's get out into the fresh air. Fresher air, anyway.' She turned to walk away.'Hang on, hang on,' said Rincewind. That's just
'How are you going to get the door open?' said Bethan.

Henri Matisse View of Collioure

Henri Matisse View of CollioureHenri Matisse The Painter's FamilyHenri Matisse The Blue WindowHenri Matisse Spanish Still Life
separation and oblivion, and that it was quite unreasonable to take against someone just because he had empty eye-sockets and a quiet pride in his work. He still used a scythe, he'd point out, while the Deaths of other worlds had long ago invested in combined harvesters.
Death sat at one side of a black baize table in the centre of the room, arguing with Famine, War and Pestilence. Twoflower Death snatched the book with a bony hand and flipped through the pages, quite oblivious to the presence of the two men.
RIGHT, he said, PESTILENCE, OPEN ANOTHER PACK OF CARDS. I'M GOING TO GET TO THE BOTTOM OF THIS IF IT KILLS ME, FIGURATIVELY SPEAKING OF COURSE.was the only one to look up and notice Rincewind.'Hey, how did you get here?' he said.'Well, some say the Creator took a handful – oh, I see, well, it's hard to explain but I —''Have you got the Luggage?'The wooden box pushed past Rincewind and settled down in front of its owner, who opened its lid and rummaged around inside until he came up with a small, leatherbound book which he handed to War, who was hammering the table with a mailed fist.'It's :Nosehinger on the Laws of Contract:,' he said. It's quite good, there's a lot in it about double finessing and how to —'

Leroy Neiman April at Augusta

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Trymon shrugged. 'Memo. I merely pointed out, lord, that the other Orders have all sent agents to Skund Forest to recapture the spell, while you do nothing,' he said. 'No doubt you will reveal your reasons in good time.'
'Your faith shames me,' said Galder.
The wizard 'Not even the merest smidgeon, master.'
'Good. Because I don't propose to go.' Galder reached down and picked up an ancient book. He mumbled a command and it creaked open; a bookmark suspiciously like a tongue flicked back into the binding.
He fumbled down beside his cushion and produced a little leather bag of tobacco and a pipe the size of an incinerator. With all the skill of a terminal nicotine addict he rubbed a nut of tobacco between his hands and tamped it into the bowl. He snapped his fingers and fire flared. He sucked deep, sighed with satisfaction . . .
. . . looked up.who captures the spell will bring great honour on himself and his order,' said Trymon. The others have used boots and all manner of elsewhere spells. What do you propose using, master?''Did I detect a hint of sarcasm there?''Absolutely not, master.''Not even a smidgeon?'

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at Valencia

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beach at ValenciaAlexandre Cabanel HarmonyThomas Gainsborough Shepherd Boys with Dogs FightingThomas Gainsborough River Landscape
on velvety summer nights. Just to add a baroque gloss to Rincewind's dull terror he seemed to be several inches taller, too.
Most of the furniture in the room appeared to be boxes.
"Uh. Really had given him in the rowing boat but, at the time, his mind had ignored it because there were more pressing matters. Now it had the leisure to savour the taste.
Rincewind's mouth twisted. He whimpered a little. One of his legs came up convulsively and caught him painfully in the chest.
Twoflower swirled his own drink thoughtfully while he considered the flavour.great place you've got here," said Rincewind. "Ethnic."He reached for a cup and looked at the green pool shimmering inside it. It'd better be drinkable, he thought. Because I'm going to drink it. He swallowed.It was the same stuff Twoflower