George Bellows Red Sun

George Bellows Red SunGeorge Bellows Polo CrowdGeorge Bellows Gull Rock and WhiteheadGeorge Bellows Fog RainbowGeorge Bellows Both Members of This Club
time it took a bend, a tail of three wizards going ‘whaaaaa’ snapped wildly across the road behind it.
There were‘It’s not a real horse, it’s a moving‑picture horse.’ The girl again. ‘You! You’re slowing down!’
‘I’m not! I’m not! Look, I’m turning the handle, I’m turning the handle!’
‘He can’t ride on a horse that isn’t real!’
‘You’re a magician and you really believe that?’
‘Wizard, actually.’ also a number of civilians, but if anything they were shouting louder than the wizards.The Librarian had seen many weird things in his time, but that was undoubtedly the 57th strangest the could very clearly hear the voices.‘‑got to keep it turning! He can only make it work if you keep it turning! It’s Holy Wood magic! He’s making it work in the real world!’ That was a girl’s voice.‘All right, but the imps get very fractious if‑‘ That was a man’s voice under extreme pressure.‘Bugger the imps!’‘How can he make a horse?’ That was the Dean. The Librarian recognized the whine. ‘That’s high‑grade magic!’

Albert Bierstadt the oregon trail

Albert Bierstadt the oregon trailSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema Caracalla and GetaFranz Marc The MonkeyFranz Marc RinderFranz Marc Rehe im Schnee
Gosh, that’s clever.’
Victor went on a little further. The walls were covered with big versions of the square ideograms that featured in the book.
‘You know,’ he said, pausing to run his fingers over one, ‘these aren’t really like a written language. It’s more as if‑‘
‘Keep movin’ and stop makin’ excuses,’ said Gaspode behind him.
Victor’s foot kicked against something which bounced away into the darkness.
‘What was it?’ he quavered.
Gaspode snuffled off into the darkness, and returned.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘It’s just a skull.’
‘Whose?’sound; it was either a beast roaring in the distance, or the sound of the sea moving in some underground tunnel. He opted for the second suggestion.
‘Something’s been calling her,’ he said. ‘In dreams. Someone that wants to be let out. I’m afraid she’s going to get hurt.’
‘She’s not worth it,’ said Gaspode. ‘Messin’ around with girls who’re in thrall to Creatures from the Void never works out, take my word for it. You’d never know ‘He dint say,’ said Gaspode.‘Shut up!’Something crunched under Victor’s sandal.‘An’ that–‘ Gaspode began.‘I don’t want to know!’‘It was a seashell, in fact,’ said Gaspode.Victor peered into the moving square of darkness ahead of them. The makeshift torch flared in the draught and, if he strained his ears, he could hear a rhythmic

Tamara de Lempicka La bella Rafaela

Tamara de Lempicka La bella RafaelaTamara de Lempicka Girl in a Green DressTamara de Lempicka Calla LiliesRaphael Madonna and Child with BookGustav Klimt Women Friends
Librarian knuckled purposefully through the maze of Unseen University’s library and descended the steps towards the maximumsecurity shelves.
Nearly all the books in the Library were, being magical, considerably more dangerous than ordinary books; most of There’s a lot of loose thinking about magic. People go around talking about mystic harmonies and cosmic balances and unicorns, all of which is to real magic what a glove puppet is to the Royal Shakespeare Company.
Real magic is the hand around the bandsaw, the thrown them were chained to the bookcases to stop them flapping around. But the lower levels . . . . . . there they kept the rogue books, the books whose behaviour or mere contents demanded a whole shelf, a whole room to themselves. Cannibal books, books which, if left on a shelf with their weaker brethren, would be found looking considerably fatter and more smug in the smoking ashes next morning. Books whose mere contents pages could reduce the unprotected mind to grey cheese. Books that were not just books of magic, but magical books.

Arthur Hughes Ophelia

Arthur Hughes OpheliaArthur Hughes April LoveAlbert Bierstadt The Buffalo TrailAlbert Bierstadt The Shore of the Turquoise SeaDante Gabriel Rossetti Paolo and Francesca
What kind of noise, Ksandra? said the Bursar, as kindly as he could.
‘Please, sir, sort of-’ she screwed up her eyes, ‘ "whumm . . . whumm . . . whumm . . . whumm . . . whummwhummwhumm WHUMMWHUMM - plib", sir.’
‘Plib,’ said the Bursar, solemnly.
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Hplib,’ added.
‘I really couldn’t say, Master. I thought perhaps you’d know. I believe Riktor was a lecturer here when you were a student. Mrs Whitlow is very concerned’, he added, in tones that made it clear that when Mrs Whitlow was concerned about something it would be an unwise Archchancellor who ignored her, ‘about staff being magically interfered with.’ echoed Mrs Whitlow. ‘That was when it spat at me, sir,’ said Ksandra. ‘Hexpectorated,’ corrected Mrs Whitlow. ‘Apparently one of the elephants spat out a little lead pellet, Master,’ said the Bursar. ‘That was the, er, the "plib",’ ‘Did it, bigods,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘Can’t have pots going around gobbin’ all over people.’ Mrs Whitlow twitched. ‘What’d it go and do that for?’ Ridcully

Claude Monet Snow at Argenteuil

Claude Monet Snow at ArgenteuilClaude Monet Houses of Parliament LondonClaude Monet Custom Officer's Cabin at VarengvilleClaude Monet ChrysanthemumsClaude Monet Camille Monet in the Garden
Victor eyed the glistening tubes in the tray around Dibbler’s neck. They smelled appetizing. They always did. And then you bit of the pan and snatched it into a bun with the expertise of a frog snapping a mayfly.
‘You won’t live to regret it,’ he said cheerfully,
Victor nibbled a bit of onion. That was safe enough.
‘What’s all this?’ he said, jerking a thumb in the direction of the into them, and learned once again that Cut-me-own-Throat Dibbler could find a use for bits of an animal that the animal didn’t know it had got. Dibbler had worked out that with enough fried onions and mustard people would eat anything. ‘Special rate for students,’ Dibbler whispered conspiratorially. ‘Fifteen pence, and that’s cutting my own throat.’ He flapped the frying pan lid strategically, raising a cloud of steam. The piquant scent of fried onions did its wicked work. ‘Just one, then,’ Victor said warily. Dibbler flicked a sausage out

Thomas Kinkade Autumn Lane

Thomas Kinkade Autumn LaneJohn Collier SpringCaravaggio The Crucifixion of Saint PeterCaravaggio The CardsharpsCaravaggio Judith Beheading Holofernes
'Geometry is not my forte,' said Ibid. 'As you probably know.'
'Sorry?'
'Haven't you read my Principles of Ideal Government?'
'I'm afraid not.'
'Or my Discourse on Historical Inevitability?'
'No.'
Ibid looked crestfallen. 'Oh,' he said.
'Ibid is a of hooves. Several horsemen galloped with reckless speed past the tavern and on up the winding, cobbled streets of the city. They seemed very excited about something.
Ibid picked a stunned seagull out of his wine cup and laid it on the table. He was looking thoughtful.
'If the Old Kingdom has really disappeared-' he said.
'It has,' said Teppic firmly. 'It's not something you can be mistaken about, really.'
'Then that means our border is concurrent with that of Tsort,' said Ibid ponderously.
'Pardon?' said Teppic.well-known authority on everything,' said Xeno. 'Except for geometry. And interior decorating. And elementary logic.' Ibid glared at him. 'What about you, then?' said Teppic. Xeno drained his mug. 'I'm more into the destruct testing of axioms,' he said. 'The chap you need is Pthagonal. A very acute man with an angle.' He was interrupted by the clatter

Jack Vettriano Lines of Sacrifice

Jack Vettriano Lines of SacrificeJack Vettriano legs ElevenJack Vettriano Lazy Hazy DaysJack Vettriano La Fille a la MotoJack Vettriano La Fille a la Moto II
rough wooden wall until he came to the door. This time he took no chances, but uncorked his oil can and let a silent drop fall on to the hinges.
A moment later he was through. A rat, idly patrolling the draughty passage beyond, had to stop itself from swallowing its parapet a few feet away.
He was certain he had made no noise. He'd have to swear that the examiner heard the sound of his gaze falling on him.
The old man raised his bald head.own tongue as he floated past. There was another doorway at the end, and a maze of musty storerooms until he found a stairway. He judged himself to be about thirty yards from the trapdoor. There hadn't been any flues that he could see. There ought to be a clear shot across the roof. He hunkered down and pulled out his knife roll, its velvet blackness making a darker oblong in the shadows. He selected a Number Five, not everyone's throwing knife, but worthwhile if you had the trick of it. Shortly afterwards his head rose very carefully over the edge of the roof, one arm bent behind it but ready to uncurl in a complex interplay of forces that would combine to send a few ounces of steel gliding across the night. Mericet was sitting by the trapdoor, looking at his clipboard. Teppic's eyes swivelled to the oblong of the plank bridge, stored meticulously against the

Juan Gris Teacups

Juan Gris TeacupsJuan Gris Portrait of Josette GrisJuan Gris Pears and Grapes on a TableJuan Gris Guitar with ClarinetJuan Gris Guitar on a Table
'I hope we didn't upset things,' said Magrat.
'My dear lady,' said Vitoller. 'Could I begin to tell you how gratifying it is for a mere mummer to learn that his audience has seen behind the mere shell of greasepaint to the spirit beneath?'
'I expect you could,' said Granny.said. 'Currently I have lodgings in yonder esteemed watering hole.'
The witches looked around. Eventually Magrat risked, 'You mean in the pub?'
It was cold and draughty in the Great we don't allow witches,' said the duchess sternly. 'And we don't propose to allow them here. You will furnish us with their addresses.'
'Addresses, ladyship?'
'Where they live. I trust your tax gatherers know where to find them?'
'Ah,' said the chamberlain, miserablyyour family used to run a kingdom, was it? You had a positive duty to kill your cousin. It was clearly in the interests of the species,' said the duchess. 'The weak don't deserve to survive.'
The duke shivered. She would keep on reminding him. He didn't, on the whole, object to killing people, or at least ordering them to be killed

William Bouguereau Le Jour

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Vitoller held up a hand. 'Don't interrupt. I'd got the right dramatic flow there.'
'Sorry.'
Flick, flick, went the stick on the wood shavings, knocking them into the air.
'I mean, you know he's not my flesh and blood.'
'He's your son, though,' said Hwel. 'This hereditary business isn't all it's cracked up to be.'
'It's fine of you to say that.'
'I mean it. Look at me. I wasn't supposed to be writing plays. Dwarfs aren't even supposed to be able to read. I shouldn't worry too much about destiny, if I was you. I was destined to be a miner. Destiny gets it wrong half the timehis plays it was even better than a ghost. There was nothing like a bit of destiny to get the old plot rolling. But it was a mistake to think you could spot the shape of it. And as for thinking it could be controlled . . .
.''But you said he looks like the Fool person. I can't see it myself, mark you.''The light's got to be right.''Could be some destiny at work there.'Hwel shrugged. Destiny was funny stuff, he knew. You couldn't trust it. Often you couldn't even see it. Just when you knew you had it cornered, it turned out to be something else – coincidence, maybe, or providence. You barred the door against it, and it was standing behind you. Then just when you thought you had it nailed down it walked away with the hammer.He used destiny a lot. As a tool for
Granny Weatherwax squinted irritably into Nanny Ogg's crystal ball. It wasn't

Vincent van Gogh Flower Beds in Holland

Vincent van Gogh Flower Beds in HollandClaude Monet Water LiliesClaude Monet Chemin dans les Bles a PourvilleVincent van Gogh Wheatfield under a Cloudy SkyClaude Monet Water Lilies 1903
been a long day. The room did not offer the kind of full life that Greebo had come to expect and demand. The only point of interest had been the discovery, around mid-morning, of a colony of mice who had spent generations eating their way through a priceless tapestry history of Lancre and had just got as far as King Murune (709--down cat face lowered itself slowly into his field of vision, wearing an expression of evil-eyed interest.
'Does oo want to go home, den?' said the Fool hopefully. 'Look, Mr Door is open.'
Greebo increased his grip. He had found a friend.745), who met a they did, too. He had sharpened his claws on a bust of Lancre's only royal vampire, Queen Grimnir the Impaler (1514-1553, 1553-1557, 1557-1562, 1562-1567 and 1568-1573). He had performed his morning ablutions on a portrait of an unknown monarch, which was beginning to dissolve. Now he was bored, and also angry.He raked his claws across the place where the Fool's ears should have been, and was rewarded with nothing more than a metallic scraping noise.'Who's a good boy, den?' said the Fool. 'Wowsa wowsa whoosh.'This intrigued Greebo. The only other person who had ever spoken to him like this was Nanny Ogg; everyone else addressed him as 'Yarrgeroffoutofityahbarstard'. He leaned down very carefully, intrigued by the new experience.From the Fool's point of view an upside

Winslow Homer Gloucester Harbor

Winslow Homer Gloucester HarborEdward Hopper Second Story SunlightEdward Hopper Route 6 EasthamEdward Hopper Queensborough BridgeEdward Hopper House by the Railroad
Felmet looked carefully at the two coins in his lap.
Then he looked at his tax gatherer.
'Well?' he said.
The tax gatherer cleared his throat. 'Well, sir, you see. I explained about the need to employ a standing army, ekcetra, and they said why, and I said because of bandits, ekcetra, and they said bandits never bothered them.'
'And civil works?'
'Ah. Yeswas fascinated.
'It's sort of hard to describe,' said the taxman. He tried to avoid Lord Felmet's gaze, which was giving him the distinct impression that the tiled floor was fleeing away in all directions and had already covered . Well, I pointed out the need to build and maintain bridges, ekcetra.''And?''They said they didn't use them.''Ah,' said the duke knowledgeably. 'They can't cross running water.''Not sure about that, sir. I think witches cross anything they like.''Did they say anything else?' said the duke.The tax gatherer twisted the hem of his robe distractedly.'Well, sir. I mentioned how taxes help to maintain the King's Peace, sir . . . ''And?''They said the king should maintain his own peace, sir. And then they gave me a look.''What sort of look?'The duke sat with his thin face cupped in one hand. He

Thomas Moran A View of Venice

Thomas Moran A View of VeniceHerbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and DeitiesHerbert James Draper Pot Pourri
wizard who had absent-mindedly reached for his tobacco pouch let the half-formed cigarette fall from his trembling fingers. It bounced when it hit the floor and all the wizards watched it roll with longing eyes until Albert stepped forward smartly and squashed it.
Now, you bunch of miserable back-sliders, this is going to stop, d'yer hear? First thing tomorrow, up at dawn, three times round the quadrangle and back here for physical jerks! Balanced meals! Study! Healthy exercise! And that bloody monkey goes to a circus, first thing!'
'Oook?'
Several of the older wizards shut their eyes.
'But first,' said Albert, lowering his voice, 'you'll oblige me by setting up the Rite of AshkEnte.'
'I have some unfinished business,' he added.Albert spun round. Rincewind, who had been following him as a sort of unofficial adjutant, nearly walked into him.'You! Rincething! D'yer smoke?''No, sir! Filthy habit!' Rincewind avoided the gaze of his superiors. He was suddenly aware that he had made some lifelong enemies, and it was no consolation to know that he probably wouldn't have them for very long.'Right! Hold my staff.

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Napoleon I on His Imperial Throne

Jean Auguste Dominique Ingres Napoleon I on His Imperial ThroneJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Mme MoitessierJean Auguste Dominique Ingres La Grande baigneuse
say,' she said.
'What?'
'I wanted to say thank you.'
'It doesn't matter,' he muttered. 'It'd just be best if you don't take books away again. It upsets them, or something.' He gave what he considered to be a mirthless laugh. 'Ha!'
'Ha what?'anyone yet,' he added, suppressing a fleeting mental picture of the princess. 'And certainly not to you, no offence meant.'
'I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on the Disc,' she 'Just ha!'He'd reached the end of the corridor. There was the door into the kitchen, where Albert would be leering knowingly, and Mort decided he couldn't face that. He stopped.'But I only took the books for a bit of company,' she said behind him.He gave in.'We could have a managed to harden his heart a little and added, 'Without obligation, that is.''You mean you're not going to marry me?' she said. Mort was horrified. 'Marry?''Isn't that what father brought you here for?' she said. 'He doesn't need an apprentice, after all.''You mean all those nudges and winks and little comments about some day my son all this will be yours?' said Mort. 'I tried to ignore them. I don't want to get married to

Thomas Kinkade A New Day Dawning

Thomas Kinkade A New Day DawningJohn Collier LilithWilliam Bouguereau The Abduction of PsycheGustav Klimt lady with fan
WALK THERE.
Mort nodded miserably, and took the long walk to the study door. As he pulled it open Death coughed.
BOY! he called, and tossed something across the room.
Mort caught it automatically as the door creaked open.
The doorway quieter than a shout.
Mort tapped the stallholder in the small of the back.
'Can you see me?' he demanded.
The stallholder squinted critically at him.
'I reckon so,' he said, 'or someone very much like you.'
Thank you,' said Mort, immensely relieved.
'Don't mention it. I see lots of people every day, no charge. Want to buy any bootlaces?'
'I don't think so,' said Mort. 'What place is this?'
'You don't know?'vanished. The deep carpet underfoot became muddy cobbles. Broad daylight poured over him like quick-silver.'Mort,' said Mort, to the universe at large.'What?' said a stallholder beside him. Mort stared around. He was in a crowded market place, packed with people and animals. Every kind of thing was being sold from needles to (via a few itinerant prophets) visions of salvation. It was impossible to hold any conversation

Vanitas Still Life

Vanitas Still LifeJohn Constable Wivenhoe ParkJohn Constable The White Horse
deep in water.
Not rainwater, unfortunately. This was water with real personality, the kind of distinctive character water gets after a long journey through silty countryside. It had the thick texture of authentic Ankh water - too stiff to drink, too runny really significant.
He got down awkwardly and paddled through the dark swirling waters. Well, he had done his best. He'd tried to organise the senior wizards into repairing the roof by magic, but there was a general argument over the spells that could be used and a consensus that this was in any case work for artisans.
That's wizards for you, he thought gloomily as he waded between the dripping arches, always probing the infinite but never noticing the definite, especially in the matter of household chores. We never had this trouble before that woman came.to plough. The river had burst its banks and a million little watercourses were flowing backwards, bursting in through the cellars and playing peekaboo under the flagstones. There was the occasional distant boom as some forgotten magic in a drowned dungeon shorted out and surrendered up its power; Treatle wasn't at all keen on some of the unpleasant bubblings and hissings that were escaping to the surface. He thought again how nice it would be to be the sort of wizard who lived in a little cave somewhere and collected herbs and thought significant thoughts and knew what the owls were saying. But probably the cave would be damp and the herbs would be poisonous and Treatle could never be sure, when all was said and done, exactly what thoughts were

Unknown Artist Bruce Lee

Unknown Artist Bruce LeeUnknown Artist Audrey HepburnPiet Mondrian Gray Tree
According to the standard poetic instructions one should move through a fair like the white swan at evening moves o'er the bay, but because of certain practical difficulties Esk settled for moving through the crowds like a small dodgem car, bumping from body to body with the tip of the staff waving a yard above her head. It caused some heads to turn, and not only because it had hit them; wizards occasionally passed through the town and it was the first time anyone had seen one four feet tall with long hair.
Anyone probability as it related to the position of a small dried pea. He was vaguely aware of a small figure watching him solemnly for a few moments, and then a sackful of peas cascaded out of every cup he picked up. Within seconds he was knee-deep in legumes. He was a lot deeper in trouble he suddenly owed everyone a lot of money.watching closely would have noticed strange things happening as she passed by. There was, for example, the man with three upturned cups who was inviting a small crowd to explore with him the exciting world of chance and

Johannes Vermeer Mistress and Maid

Johannes Vermeer Mistress and MaidUnknown Artist Vanitas Still LifeJohn Constable Wivenhoe Park
want you to come and help me up before I lose my grip on this stone,' it said.
Twoflower opened his mouth, then shut it quickly. He ran to the square hole and peered down. By the ruddy light of the star he could just make out Rincewind's eyes looking up at him.
Twoflower lay down on his stomach and reached out. Rincewind's hand gripped his wrist in the sort of grip that told 'What do you mean, besides you?' said Twoflower.
Rincewind said a word.
'Well, look,' said Twoflower. The steps go around in a spiral, right?Twoflower that if he, Rincewind, wasn't pulled up then there was no possible way in which that grip was going to be relaxed.'I'm glad you're alive,' he said.'Good. So am I,' said Rincewind.He hung around in the darkness for a bit. After the past few minutes it was almost enjoyable, but only almost.'Pull me up, then,' he hinted.'I think that might be sort of difficult,' grunted Twoflower. 'I don't actually think I can do it, in fact.''What are you holding on to, then?''You.''I mean besides me.'

Jack Vettriano The Billy Boys

Jack Vettriano The Billy BoysJack Vettriano Private DancerJack Vettriano Mad DogsJack Vettriano Dancing Couple
I see it. Thanks again.'
He didn't move. Eventually the voice said conversationally, 'Anything more I can do for you?'
'You're not carefully, and turned around.
There was a rock a little way away. But there were rocks everywhere, the very bones of the Disc were near he surface here.
He looked hard at the yew tree, just in case it had been speaking. But the yew, being a fairly solitary tree, hadn't heard about Rincewind the arborial saviour, and in any case was asleep.a tree, are you?' said Rincewind, still staring straight ahead.'Don't be silly. Trees can't talk.''Sorry. It's just that I've been having a bit of difficulty with trees lately, you know how it is.''Not really. I'm a rock.'Rincewind's voice hardly changed.'Fine, fine,' he said slowly. 'Well, I'll just be getting those onions, then.''Enjoy them.'He walked forward in a careful and dignified fashion, spotted a clump of stringy white things huddling in the undergrowth, uprooted them

Vincent van Gogh Seascape at Saintes-Maries

Vincent van Gogh Seascape at Saintes-MariesVincent van Gogh Road with CypressesVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in BlossomVincent van Gogh Orchard in Blossom
amulets. Because Greyhald Spold knows that Death is looking for him, and has spent many years designing an impregnable hiding place.
He has just set the complicated clockwork of the lock and shut the lid, lying back in the knowledge that here at last is the red points of light-glowed momentarily and there was the sound of a chesty cough, abruptly silenced.
'Shut up!' hissed a third rank wizard. They'll hear us!'
'Who will? We gave the lads from the Brotherhood of the Hoodwink the slip in the swamp, and those idiots from the Venerable Council of Seers went off the wrong way anyway.'
'Yeah,' said the most junior wizard, 'but who keeps talking to us? They say this is a magic wood, it's full of goblins and wolves and —'perfect defence against the most ultimate of all his enemies, although as yet he has not considered the important part that airholes must play in an enterprise of this kind.And right beside him, very close to his ear, a voice has just said: DARK IN HERE, ISN'T IT? It began to snow. The barleysugar windows of the cottage showed bright and cheerful against the blackness.At one side of the clearing three tiny

George Inness The Delaware Water Gap

George Inness The Delaware Water GapGeorge Inness SpringGeorge Inness Spring Blossoms New JerseyGeorge Inness Rome
deep clanging purple colour of fading consciousness, because it was at about this point that Rincewind started to drown.men working feverishly on the raft.
The captain, a thickset man who wore the elbowturbans typical of a Great Nef tribesman, was much travelled and had seen many strange peoples and curious thingsHe awoke with his mouth full of burning liquid and, when he swallowed, the searing pain in his throat jerked him into full consciousness. The boards of a boat pressed into his back and Twoflower was looking down at him with an expression of deep concern. Rincewind groaned and sat up.This turned out to be a mistake. The edge of the world was a few feet away.Beyond it, at a level just below that of the lip of the endless Rimfall, was something altogether magical. Some seventy miles away, and well beyond the tug of the rim current, a scow with the red sails typical of a freelance slaver drifted aimlessly through the velvety twilight. The crew - such as remained were clustered on the foredeck, surrounding the