Titian Venus with Organist and Cupid

Titian Venus with Organist and CupidTitian Emperor CharlesBartolome Esteban Murillo The Little Fruit SellerFilippino Lippi The Marriage of St Catherine
and heavily constructed.
'Where are we?' whispered Cuddy.
'Don't know,' said Detritus. 'Back of the docks somewhere.'
Cuddy pushed open the door with his sword.
'Cuddy?'
'Yeah?'
'We walked seven-ty-nine steps!'
'That's nice.'
Cold air rushed past them.
'Meat store,' whispered Cuddy. 'Someone picked the lock.'
He slipped through andcomes in here for months. Till pork exists.'
Cuddy shivered.
'You in here!' he shouted. 'It's the Watch! Step out now!'
A dark figure appeared from between a couple of pre-pigs.
'Now what we do?' said Detritus.
The distant figure raised what looked like a stick, holding it like a crossbow. into a high, gloomy room, as large as a temple, which in some ways it resembled. Faint light crept through the high, ice-covered windows. From rack upon rack, all the way to the ceiling, hung meat carcasses.They were semi-transparent and so very cold Cuddy's breath turned to crystals in the air.'Oh, my,' said Detritus. 'I think this the pork futures warehouse in Morpork Road.''What?''Used to work here,' said the troll. 'Used to work everywhere. Go away, you stupid troll, you too thick,' he added, gloomily.'Is there any way out?''The main door is in Morpork Street. But no-one
And fired. The first shot zinged off Cuddy's helmet

Sandro Botticelli The Cestello Annunciation

Sandro Botticelli The Cestello AnnunciationSandro Botticelli Pallas and the CentaurSandro Botticelli Madonna in Glory with SeraphimJean Beraud La Rue de la Paix 1907
WAS THERE ANYTHING AMUSING IN THE STATEMENT I JUST MADE?
'Uh. No. No . . . I don't think so.'
IT WAS A PUN, OR PLAY ON WORDS. BJORN AGAIN.
'Yes?'
DID YOU NOTICE IT?
'I can't say I did.'
OH.
'Sorry.'
I'VE BEEN TOLD I SHOULD TRY TO MAKE THE OCCASION A LITTLE MORE ENJOYABLE.
'Bjorn again.'
YES.
'I'll think about it?
THANK 'Excuse me, sergeant?'
'What is it, Lance-Constable Angua?'
'How exactly do we sleep with it, sir?'
'Well, I . . . I meant . . . Corporal Nobbs, stop that sniggering right now!' Colon adjusted his breastplate and decided to strike out in a new .direction.
'Now, hwat we have 'ere is a puppet, mommet or heffigy' – indicating a vaguely humanoid shape made of leather and stuffed with straw, mounted on a stake -'called by the hnickname of Harthur, weapons training, for the use hof. Forward, Lance-Constable Angua. Tell me, Lance-Constable, do you

Andy Warhol daisy 1982

Andy Warhol daisy 1982Andy Warhol Camouflage green yellow whiteAndy Warhol Brooklyn BridgeAndy Warhol Banana
We've certainly had some . . . difficult ones. Anyone remember Homicidal Lord Winder?'
'Deranged Lord Harmoni,' said Lord Monflathers.
'Laughing Lord They perceptibly jumped as the last Lord d'Eath thrust himself out of his chair.
'Will you listen to yourselves? Please? Look at you. What man among you has not seen his family name degraded since the days of the kings? Can't you remember the men your forefathers were?' He strode rapidly around the table, so that they had to turn to watch him. He pointed an angry finger.
'You, Lord Rust! Your ancestor was cr-eated a Baron after single-handedly killing thirty-seven Klatchians while armed with nothing more than a p-in, isn't that so?'Scapula,' said Lady Selachii. 'A man with a very pointed sense of humour.''Mind you, Vetinari . . . there's something not entirely . . .' Lord Rust began.'I know what you mean,' said Viscount Skater. 'I don't like the way he always knows what you're thinking before you think it.''Everyone knows the Assassins have set his fee at a million dollars,' said Lady Selachii. 'That's how much it would cost to have him killed.''One can't help feeling,' said Lord Rust, 'that it would cost a lot more than that to make sure he stayed dead.''Ye gods! What happened to pride? What happened to honour?'

Cao Yong MY BALCONY

Cao Yong MY BALCONY
showed a figure of an owl-eyed man wearing an animal skin and horns.In the flickering light he seemed to dance.There was a runic inscription underneath.“Anyone ever worked out what that says?” said Casanunda.Nanny Ogg “Well
Cao Yong THE VISION BEYOND
nodded.“It’s a variant of Oggham,” she said. “Basically, it means ‘I’ve Got a Great Big Tonker.’”“Oggham?” said the dwarf.“My family has been in these, how shall I put it, in these parts for a very long time,” said Nanny.“Knowing you is a real education, Mrs. Ogg,” said Casanunda.“Everyone says that. Just shove the crowbar down the side of the stone, will you? I’ve always wanted an excuse to go down there.”“What is down there?”
Cao Yong Walk In Garden

here’d do,” she said. “Got a match?”
The sulfurous glow revealed a flat rock with a crude drawing scratched on it. Ochre had been rubbed into the lines. They , it leads into Lancre Caves. They run everywhere, I’ve heard. Even up to Copperhead. There’s supposed to be an entrance in the castle, but I’ve never found it. But mainly they lead to the world of the elves.”
“I thought the Dancers led to the world of the elves?”
“This is the other world of the elves.”
“I thought they only had one.”
“They don’t talk about this one.”

Raphael Deposition of Christ

Raphael Deposition of ChristGeorge Frederick Watts Pablo and FrancescaFrancisco de Goya The Quail ShootFrancisco de Goya Blind Man's Buff
if you’re sure ...”
“Go on!”
Nanny Ogg waited until she heard them go down the main staircase. After a while a rattle of coaches and general shouting suggested that the wedding party was leaving, minus the bride-to-be.
She counted to a hundred, under her breath.
Then:
“Magrat?”
“Go away!”
“I know how it is,” said Nanny. “I was a bit worried on the night before my wedding.” She refrained from adding:
because there was a reasonable chance Jason would turn up as an extra guest.
“I am not worried! I am angry!”
“Why?”
“You know!”
Nanny took off her hat and scratched her head.
“You’ve got me there,” she said.
“And he knew. I know he knew, and I know who told him,” said the muffled voice behind the door. “It was all arranged. You must all have been laughing!”
Nanny frowned at the impassive woodwork.
“Nope,” she said. “Still all at sea this end.”
“Well, I’m ?”
Silence.
“You can always go back to your cottage. No one’s moved in. Or you can stop along of me, if you like. But you’ll have to decide, d’you see, because you can’t stay locked in there.”not saying anymore.”“Everyone’s gone to the Entertainment,” said Nanny Ogg.189Terry PratchettNo reply.“And later they’ll be back.”A further absence of dialogue. “Then there’ll be carousing and jugglers and fellas that put weasels down their trousers,” said Nanny. Silence.“And then it’ll be tomorrow, and then what’re you going to do
Nanny leaned against the wall.

Cao Yong TRANSAMERICA PYRAMID

Cao Yong TRANSAMERICA PYRAMIDCao Yong THE VISION BEYONDCao Yong SUMMER BREEZECao Yong SACRED POOLS
LQRQ6 ftffQ ift0/£6
rode inside their heads, you didn’t involve the subject in any way...
Well, not so instrument and singing a totally different one was a stroll in the country by comparison.
She knew she couldn’t do it for more than a few seconds before total confusion overwhelmed mind and body. But a second was all she needed. She let the confusion arise, dumped it in its entirety in the horse’s mind, and withdrew sharply, picking up control of her own body as it began to fall.
There was one horrible moment in the horse’s head.much a rule, as such, more of a general guideline.A stone-tipped arrow went through her hat.Hardly really a guideline, even.In fact, not even—Oh, drat.She plunged into the lead horse’s mind, down through the layers of barely controlled madness which is what is inside even a normal horse’s brain. For a moment she looked out through its bloodshot eyes at her own figure, staggering through the snow. For a moment she was trying to control six legs at once, two of them in a separate body.In terms of difficulty, playing one tune on a musical

Leroy Neiman Island Hole at Sawgrass

Leroy Neiman Island Hole at SawgrassLeroy Neiman International Horse Show New YorkLeroy Neiman International Cuisine
bin dancin’ around the stones.”
Jason hit his thumb.
There were a number of gods in the mountains and forests of Lancre. One of them was known as Heme the Hunted. He was a god of the chase and the hunt. More or less.
Most gods are “Who’s Them?”
Nanny hesitated. There were some things you didn’t tell ordinary people. On the other hand, Jason was a blacksmith, which meant he wasn’t ordinary. Blacksmiths had to keep secrets. And he was family; Nanny Ogg had created and sustained by belief and hope. Hunters danced in animal skins and created gods of the chase, who tended to be hearty and boisterous with the tact of a tidal wave. But they are not the only gods of hunting. The prey has an occult voice too, as the blood pounds and the hounds bay. Heme was the god of the chased and the hunted and all small animals whose ultimate destiny is to be an’abrupt damp squeak.He was about three feet high with rabbit ears and verysmall horns. But he did have an extremely good turn ofTerry Pratchettspeed, and was using it to the full as he tore madly through the woods.“They’re coming! They’re coming! They’re all coming back!”“Who are?” said Jason Ogg. He was holding his thumb in the water trough.Nanny Ogg sighed.“Them,” she said. “You know. Them. We ain’t certain, but...”

Vincent van Gogh Stairway at Auvers

Vincent van Gogh Stairway at AuversVincent van Gogh Souvenir de MauveVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in Bloom
Borvorius's eyes narrowed. He had not survived the many wars of his life by being a stupid man.
"No," he said, "maybe you didn't. But it doesn't matter. Listen to me, my innocent little priest. Sometimes there has to be a war. Things go too far for words. There's . . . other forces. Now . . . go back to your people. Maybe we'll both be alive when all this is over and then we can talk. Fight first, talk after. That's how it works, boy. That's history. Now, go back.". A lot of them had clustered around the iron-shielded cart. Brutha looked at it through a mist of despair.
"Didn't I say I'd go down there alone?" he said.
Simony, who was leaning against the Turtle, gave him a grim smile.
"Did it work?" he said.Brutha turned away.I. Shall I Smite Them?"No!"Il. I Could Make Them As Dust. Just Say The Word."No. That's worse than war."III. But You Said A God Must Protect His People"What would we be if I told you to crush honest men?"IV. Not Stuck Full Of Arrows?No.The Omnians were assembling among the dunes

Salvador Dali Maelstrom

Salvador Dali MaelstromSalvador Dali Les trois sphinx de bikiniSalvador Dali Enchanted Beach with Three Fluid Graces
ctylos sagged. "Yes," he said. "No doubt you can. So that's all right, then. My word. And to think I was worrying. And now . . . I think I'll go and have a rest somewhere . . .
He looked hunched up, and suddenly old.
"Master?" "Wait! Wait! You don't want to do that! We can go to Ankh-Morpork! Land of opportunity! With my brains and your . . . with you, the world is our mollusk! Why throw it all away . . .
And then he'd slide into another furrow. Once or twice he saw the eagle, forever circling.
"Why put your hand into a grinder? This place deserves Vorbis! Sheep deserve to be led!"
It had been like this when his very first believer had been stoned to deathsaid Urn."Don't `master' me," said Didactylos, feeling his way along the barn walls to the door. "I can see you know every bloody thing there is to know about human nature now. Hah!" The Great God Om slid down the side of an irrigation ditch and landed on his back in the weeds at the bottom. He righted himself by gripping a root with his mouth and hauling himself over.The shape of Brutha's thoughts flickered back and forth in his mind. He couldn't make out any actual words, but he didn't need to, any more than you needed to see the ripples to know which way the river flowed.Occasionally, when he could see the Citadel as a gleaming dot in the twilight, he'd try shouting his own mind back as loudly as he could:

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Too Early

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Too EarlyHenri Rousseau Woman Walking in an Exotic ForestHenri Rousseau warHenri Rousseau Two Monkeys in the Jungle
what sights I shall see," said the Tyrant.
Brutha stood up, knocking over his bench and going redder with embarrassment.
He thought: they lied about Brother Murduck. They beat him within an inch of his life, Vorbis said, and flogged him the rest of the way. And Brother Nhumrod said he saw the body, and it was really true. Just for talking! People who would do that sort of thing deserve . . . punishment. And they keep slaves. People forced to work against their will. People treated like animals. And they even call their ruler a Tyrant!
And why isn't any of this exactly what it seems?
Why don't I believe any of it?
Why do I know it isn't true?
And what Brutha, who had never heard the words "day off" before, and who was in any case unfamiliar with the concept, nodded uncertainly.
"Why don't you run away?" he said.did he mean about fish not having a word for water? The Omnians were half-escorted, half-led back to their compound. Another bowl of fruit was waiting on the table in Brutha's cell, with some more fish and a loaf of bread.There was also a man, sweeping the floor."Um," said Brutha. "Are you a slave?""Yes, master.""That must be terrible."The man leaned on his broom. "You're right. It's terrible. Really terrible. D'you know, I only get one day off a week?"
"Oh, done that," said the slave. "Ran away to Tsort once. Didn't like it much. Came back. Run away for a fortnight in Djelibeybi every winter, though."

Thomas Kinkade London

Thomas Kinkade LondonThomas Kinkade Light of FreedomThomas Kinkade Graceland
funneling the breeze to very precise points.
Brutha had never heard about the art of bonsai, and how it was applied to mountains.
"They're . . . very nice," he said uncertainly.
Nod, smile, pick up a small rock, smile, urge, urge.
"Oh, I really couldn't take-”
Urge, urge. Grin, nod.
Brutha took the tiny mountain. It had a strange, unreal heaviness-to his hand it felt like a pound or so, but in his head it come from inside.
Oh, no, he thought wretchedly.
He pushed the little mountain back into Lu-Tze's hands.
"But, er, you keep it for me, yes?"
"Brutha! "
All that was a dream, wasn't it? Before I was important and talked to by deacons.weighed thousands of very, very small tons."Uh. Thank you. Thank you very much."Nod, smile, push away politely."It's very . . . mountainous."Nod, grin."That can't really be snow on the top, can-”"Brutha!"His head jerked up. But the voice had
"No, it wasn't! Help me!"

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with Yarnwinder

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with YarnwinderLeonardo da Vinci Madonna LittaLeonardo da Vinci Female Head
the wizards were wazards.

'War?'
'Wazzat?''The Apos ... the Apostrophe,' said War, vaguely.
They shook their heads. There was a lengthy pause.
'What does "apocrustic" mean?' said Pestilence, gazing intently into some inner world.
'Astringent,' said War, 'I think.'
'It's not that, then?''Wasn't there,' Pestilence groped for his glass, 'something?''Wazzat?''We ought to be ... there's something we ought to be doing,' said Famine.'S'right. Got an appointment.''The-’ Pestilence gazed reflectively into his drink. 'Thingy.'They stared gloomily at the bar counter. The innkeeper had long ago fled. There were several bottles still unopened.'Okra,' said Famine, eventually. 'That was it.''Nah.'

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Arrival of the Boats

Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Arrival of the BoatsJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Valencian SceneJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Wounded Foot
cautious writhing painfully for a few seconds before it mercifully vanished must be a candidate for the famous white canvas blazer with the optional long sleeves.
'So perish all enemies,' said Abrim.
He turned his face up to the heights of the tower.
'I challenge,' he said. And those who will not face me must follow me, according wizard maintained about his person at all times.[19] The first thing a young wizard learns at Unseen University - apart from where his peg is, and which way to the lavatory - is that he must protect himself at all times.Some people think this is paranoia, but it isn't. Paranoids only think everyone is out to get them. Wizards know it.The little wizard was wearing the psychic equivalent of three feet of tempered steel and it was being melted like butter under a blowlamp. It streamed away, van­ished.If there are words to describe what happened to the wizard next then they're imprisoned inside a wild thesaurus in the Unseen University Library. Perhaps it's best left to the imagination, except that anyone able to imagine the kind of shape that Rincewind saw

Salvador Dali The Cellist Ricardo Pichot

Salvador Dali The Cellist Ricardo PichotSalvador Dali My Wife,NudeSalvador Dali Meditation on the Harp
don't like to say this, but I feel better for that,' she said. 'It's terrible to know that I betrayed a fine hairdressing tradition, of course. Oh.'
'Yes,' said Rincewind sombrely, 'I wondered if you'd noticed them.'
Conina's eyes scanned the line of bowmen who had appeared along the opposite wall. They had that stolid, impassive He wondered whether he ought to talk to Carding, but he had a chilly feeling that the old wizard wouldn't listen and wouldn't believe him anyway. In fact he wasn't quite sure he believed it himself ...
Yes he was. He'd never forget it, although he intended to make every effort.
One of the problems about living in the University these days was that the building you went look of people who have been paid to do a job, and don't much mind if the job involves killing people.'Time for those hairgrips,' said Rincewind.Conina didn't move.'My father always said that it was pointless to undertake a direct attack against an enemy extensively armed with efficient projectile weapons,' she said.Rincewind, who knew Cohen's normal method of speech, gave her a look of disbelief.'Well, what he actually said,' she added, 'was never enter an arse-kicking contest with a porcupine.' Spelter couldn't face breakfast.

Frederic Edwin Church Jerusalem from the Mount of Olives

Frederic Edwin Church Jerusalem from the Mount of OlivesWilliam Merritt Chase On the Lake Central ParkWilliam Merritt Chase The Nursery
not become apparent soon, but currently there was only one that set it apart from any other brassbound chest. It was snoring, with a sound like someone very slowly sawing a log.
The The lid shut with a snap. The Luggage manoeuvred its feet into a complicated shuffle until it was facing the doorway, and headed after its master.
The Library was still in a state of tension, with the occasional clinking[4] of a chain or muffled crackle of a page. Rincewind reached under the desk and grabbed the Librarian who was still hunched under his blanket.
'Come on, I said!'Luggage might be magical. It might be terrible. But in its enigmatic soul it was kin to every other piece of luggage throughout the multiverse, and preferred to spend its winters hibernating on top of a wardrobe.Rincewind hit it with a broom until the sawing stopped, filled his pockets with odds and ends from the banana crate he used as a dressing table, and made for the door. He couldn't help noticing that his mattress had gone but that didn't matter because he was pretty clear that he was never going to sleep on a mattress again, ever.The Luggage landed on the floor with a solid thump. After a few seconds, and with extreme care, it rose up on hundreds of little pink legs. It tilted backwards and forwards a bit, stretching every leg, and then it opened its lid and yawned.'Are you coming or not?'

Thomas Kinkade The Light of Freedom

Thomas Kinkade The Light of FreedomThomas Kinkade The Hour of PrayerThomas Kinkade The Heart of San Francisco
the circumstances, then, you might as well go back to calling me Renata again.’
There was a bonfire in the meadow beyond the archery field. Death could see figures moving in front of it. An occasional tortured squeak suggested that someone was tuning up a fiddle.
‘I always come along to the harvest dance,’ said Miss Flitworth, conversationally. ‘Not to dance, of course. I generally look after the food and so on.’
WHY?
‘Well. someone’s got to look after the food.’
I MEANT WHYknows how to think young, but my knees aren’t that good at it. Or my back. Or my teeth. Try telling my knees they’re as old as they think they are and see what good it does you. Or them.’
IT MAY BE WORTH A TRY.
More figures moved in front of the firelight. Death could see striped poles strung with bunting.
‘The lads usually bring a couple of barn doors down here and nail DON’T YOU DANCE?‘ ‘Cos I’m old, that’s why.’YOU ARE AS OLD AS YOU THINK YOU ARE.‘Huh! Yeah? Really? That’s the kind of stupid thing people always say. They always say, My word, you’re looking well. They say, There’s life in the old dog yet. Many a good ?tu~5e? played on an old fiddle. That kind of stuff. It’s all stupid. As if being old was some kind of thing you should be glad about! As if being philosophical about it will earn you marks! My head ‘em together for a proper floor,’ observed Miss Flitworth. ‘Then everyone can join in.’

Alexandre Cabanel The Birth of Venus

Alexandre Cabanel The Birth of VenusSandro Botticelli The Story of Nastagio degli OnestiSandro Botticelli The Cestello Annunciation
And then he heard the music.
Ludmilla risked removing her hands from her ears.
‘It’s horrible! What is it, Mr Poons?’
Windle tried to pull the remains of his hat over his ears. ‘Don’t know,’ he said. ‘It could be music. If you’d never heard music before.’
There weren’t notes. There were strung-together noises that might have been intended to be notes, put Windle shook his head.
‘Music to attract humans? Is that what you’re getting at? But that can’t be true. It’s not attracting us. Quite the reverse, I assure you.’ ‘Yes, but you’re not human . . . exactly,’ said Ludmilla.’And -‘ She stopped, and went red in the face.together as one might draw a map of a country that one had never seen.Hnyip. Ynyip. Hulyomp.‘It’s coming from outside the city,’ said Ludmilla. ‘Where all the people . . . are . . . going . . . They can’t like it, can they?’ ‘I can’t imagine why they should,’ said Windle.‘It’s just that, . . you remember the trouble with the rats last year? That man who said he had a pipe that played music only rats could hear?’‘Yes, but that wasn’t really true, it was all a fraud, it was just the Amazing Maurice and his Educated Rodents -‘‘But supposing it could have been true?’

John Collier Spring

John Collier SpringCaravaggio The Crucifixion of Saint PeterCaravaggio The Cardsharps
Ridcully looked down. A greenish-yellow puddle was spreading under the door. The wood was charring, the flagstones were hissing, and the leather soles of his boots were definitely in trouble. He could feel himself getting lower.
He fumbled with the laces, and then took a standing jump on to a dry flagstone.
‘Bursar!’
‘Yes, Archchancellor?’
‘Give me your boots!’
‘What?’
‘he said.’We’ll . . . strategically withdraw to previously prepared positions.’
‘Who prepared them?’ said the Dean.
‘We’ll prepare them when we get there,’ said the Archchancellor through gritted teeth.’Bursar! Your boots! Now!’Dammit, man, I command you to give me your blasted boots!’ This time, a long creature with four pairs of wings, two at each end, and three eyes, popped into existence over Ridcully’s head and dropped on to his hat.‘But -‘‘I am your Archchancellor!’‘Yes, but -‘Ridcully looked around desperately.‘We’ll regroup in the Great Hall,’
They reached the double doors of the Great Hall just as

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid

Lorenzo Lotto Venus and CupidJean Fragonard The BathersThomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan
Yes, but that’s only because of unforeseen exothermic reactions, ‘ said the alchemist.
‘Things keep blowing up,’ translated the deputy-head alchemist, without looking up.
‘They of glassware broke into splinters !’

‘Marry, ‘twas a sharp retort, ‘ said a wretched voice. The press of bodies moved aside to reveal the General Secretary and Chief Butt of the Guild of Fools and Joculators. He flinched under the attention, but he generally flinched all the time anyway. He had the look of a man whose face has been Ground Zero for one custard pie too many, whose may blow up, but they come down again.They don’t flutter around and, e.g., start unscrewing themselves,’ said his chief, giving him a warning frown. ‘Anyway, why’d we do it to ourselves? I tell you, it’s hell in my workshop! There’s stuff whizzing everywhere! Just before I came out, a huge and very expensive piece

Paul Klee Park of Idols

Paul Klee Park of IdolsPaul Klee Park bei LuzernPaul Klee On a Motif from HamametPaul Klee Heroic RosesPaul Klee Hermitage
stamping the snow off his boots. Someone who gave you something.
Whereas tonight . . .
Of course, old Windle probably felt different about it. After one hundred and thirty years, death probably had a . It was long and rambling and disjointed and went on about the good old days and he seemed to think that most of the people around him were people who had been, in fact, dead for about fifty years, but that didn’t matter because you got into the habit of not listening to old Windle. The Bursar couldn’t tear his eyes away from his watch. From inside came the squeak of the treadle as the demon patiently pedalled his way towards infinity.certain attraction. You probably became quite interested in finding out what happened next. The Archchancellor’s convoluted anecdote wound jerkily to its close. The assembled wizards laughed dutifully, and then tried to work out the joke. The Bursar looked surreptitiously at his watch. It was now twenty minutes past nine.l At least, until the day they suddenly pick up a paper-knife and carve their way out through Cost Accounting and into forensic history. Windle Poons made a speech