Alphonse Maria Mucha Monaco Monte CarloAlphonse Maria Mucha MedeeAlphonse Maria Mucha Fruit
gave him a blank stare.
'Are you a giant?' he said.
'Me? Of course not!'
'Ah. Then I must be a dwarf, yes. And that's a troll behind me,' said Cuddy. Detritus pulled himself into something 'I thought everyone knew about Leonard da Quirm. Quite barmy. But a genius, too.'
'Was he an alchemist?'
Write this down, write this down . . . Detritus looked around blearily for a burnt bit of wood and a handy wall.
'Leonard? No. He didn't belong to a Guild. Or he belonged to all the Guilds, I suppose. He got around quite a bit. He tinkered, if you know what I mean?'
'No, sir.'resembling attention.'We've come to see if you can tell us what's on this paper,' said Cuddy.'Yur,' said Detritus.Silverfish looked at it.'Oh, yes,' he said, 'some of old Leonard's stuff. Well?''Leonard?' said Cuddy. He glared at Detritus. 'Write this down,' he snapped.'Leonard of Quirm,' said the alchemist.Cuddy still looked lost.'Never heard of him?' said Silverfish.'Can't say I have, sir.'
2009年4月28日星期二
2009年4月27日星期一
2009年4月26日星期日
Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the Wilderness
Frederic Edwin Church Twilight in the WildernessJulius LeBlanc Stewart At HomeTitian Sacred and Profane Love
Shouldn’t waste a golden opportunity if I was you,”
said Weaver, with the happy malice often shown by the
clever to the simple.
The Librarian was chatting to Ponder and the Bursar. He
looked aroundTerry Pratehett
his nut where the sun don’t shine! You said he did! You didn’t, did you? He said you did.” He turned to the Librarian. “He didn’t. Weaver. See, I knew you’d got it wrong. You’re daft. There’s no monkeys in Slice.” as Carter prodded him.“You’ve been over to Slice, then, have you?” he said, inhis cheery open way.The Librarian gave him a look of polite incomprehension.“Oook?”Carter looked perplexed.“That’s where you put your nut, ain’t it?”The Librarian gave him another odd look, and shook hishead.“Oook.”“Weaver!” Carter shouted, “the monkey says he didn’t put301
Shouldn’t waste a golden opportunity if I was you,”
said Weaver, with the happy malice often shown by the
clever to the simple.
The Librarian was chatting to Ponder and the Bursar. He
looked aroundTerry Pratehett
his nut where the sun don’t shine! You said he did! You didn’t, did you? He said you did.” He turned to the Librarian. “He didn’t. Weaver. See, I knew you’d got it wrong. You’re daft. There’s no monkeys in Slice.” as Carter prodded him.“You’ve been over to Slice, then, have you?” he said, inhis cheery open way.The Librarian gave him a look of polite incomprehension.“Oook?”Carter looked perplexed.“That’s where you put your nut, ain’t it?”The Librarian gave him another odd look, and shook hishead.“Oook.”“Weaver!” Carter shouted, “the monkey says he didn’t put301
2009年4月23日星期四
Mark Spain Dance I
Mark Spain Dance IMark Spain Crescendo IIMark Spain Crescendo I
piled together and, in those places where the roof had leaked, were rusted into a lump. There were longbows, short bows, pistol bows, stirrup bows, and crossbows, piled like firewood and stacked with the same lack of care. Odd bits of armor were piled in more heaps, and were red with rust. In fact rust was everywhere. The whole huge room was full of the death of iron.
Magrat went The voice came from outside the door, far behind
Magrat. But it echoed around her, bouncing off the centuries of mouldering armaments.
They can’t come in here, Magrat thought. Too much iron. In here, I’m safe.
“If lady wants to play, we will fetch her friends.”
As Magrat turned, the light caught the edge of some-thing, and gleamed.
Magrat pulled aside a huge shield.on, like some clockwork toy that won’t change direction until it bumps into something.The candlelight was reflected dully in helmets andbreastplates. The sets of horse armor in particular were ter-rible, on their rotting wooden frames—they stood like exte-rior skeletons, and, like skeletons, nudged the mind into220LQR08 ftl^O Lft0/£8thoughts of mortality. Empty eye sockets stared sightlessly down at the little candlelit figure.“Lady?”
piled together and, in those places where the roof had leaked, were rusted into a lump. There were longbows, short bows, pistol bows, stirrup bows, and crossbows, piled like firewood and stacked with the same lack of care. Odd bits of armor were piled in more heaps, and were red with rust. In fact rust was everywhere. The whole huge room was full of the death of iron.
Magrat went The voice came from outside the door, far behind
Magrat. But it echoed around her, bouncing off the centuries of mouldering armaments.
They can’t come in here, Magrat thought. Too much iron. In here, I’m safe.
“If lady wants to play, we will fetch her friends.”
As Magrat turned, the light caught the edge of some-thing, and gleamed.
Magrat pulled aside a huge shield.on, like some clockwork toy that won’t change direction until it bumps into something.The candlelight was reflected dully in helmets andbreastplates. The sets of horse armor in particular were ter-rible, on their rotting wooden frames—they stood like exte-rior skeletons, and, like skeletons, nudged the mind into220LQR08 ftl^O Lft0/£8thoughts of mortality. Empty eye sockets stared sightlessly down at the little candlelit figure.“Lady?”
2009年4月21日星期二
William Bouguereau Yvonne
William Bouguereau YvonneWilliam Bouguereau Le JourWilliam Bouguereau Dawn
lane near her cottage and he couldn’t get it to move and
he went up to her place and he knocked on the door and she
opened it and before he could open his mouth she said, “Yer
cow’s ill, Weaver” . . . just like that. . . And then she said—“
“Was that the old brindled cow what your dad had?” said Carter.
“No, it were my kitchen
and comes back with a couple of big red pills, and she—“
“How’d it get crumpled, then?” said Carter.
“—and she gave him one of the pills and said, ‘What you do, you raise the old cow’s tail and shove this pill where the sun don’t shine, and in half a minute she’ll be up and run-ning as fast as she canuncle had the brindled cow, we had theone with the crumpled horn,” said Weaver. “Anyway—““Could have sworn it was brindled,” said Carter. “I remember my dad looking at it over the hedge one day and saying, ‘That’s fine brindling on that cow, you don’t get brin-dling like that these days.’ That was when you had that old field alongside Cabb’s Well.”148“We never had that field, it was my cousin had thatfield,” said Weaver. “Anyway—““You sure?”“Anyway,” said Weaver, she said, “You wait there, I’ll giveyou something for it,” and she goes out into her back
lane near her cottage and he couldn’t get it to move and
he went up to her place and he knocked on the door and she
opened it and before he could open his mouth she said, “Yer
cow’s ill, Weaver” . . . just like that. . . And then she said—“
“Was that the old brindled cow what your dad had?” said Carter.
“No, it were my kitchen
and comes back with a couple of big red pills, and she—“
“How’d it get crumpled, then?” said Carter.
“—and she gave him one of the pills and said, ‘What you do, you raise the old cow’s tail and shove this pill where the sun don’t shine, and in half a minute she’ll be up and run-ning as fast as she canuncle had the brindled cow, we had theone with the crumpled horn,” said Weaver. “Anyway—““Could have sworn it was brindled,” said Carter. “I remember my dad looking at it over the hedge one day and saying, ‘That’s fine brindling on that cow, you don’t get brin-dling like that these days.’ That was when you had that old field alongside Cabb’s Well.”148“We never had that field, it was my cousin had thatfield,” said Weaver. “Anyway—““You sure?”“Anyway,” said Weaver, she said, “You wait there, I’ll giveyou something for it,” and she goes out into her back
2009年4月20日星期一
Edward Hopper Portrait of Orleans
Edward Hopper Portrait of OrleansEdward Hopper Pont du Carrousel in the FogEdward Hopper Painter and Model
Bugger off, my precious, Nana’s busy right this minute.”
Pewsey pulled hard on Nanny Ogg’s skirts.
“Now sweetie now!”
Granny Weatherwax leaned down until her impressive nose was about level with Pewsey’s gushing one.
“If you don’t go away,” she said gravely, “I will personal-ly rip your head off and fill it with snakes.”
“There!” said Nanny Ogg. “There’s lots of poor children in Klatch that’d be grateful for a curse like that.”
Pewsey’s little face, after a second or two of uncertainty, split into a pumpkin grin.
“Funny lady,” “Er. Diamanda says you don’t understand, she says they won’t be trying to outstare one another ...”
Magrat was bored. She’d never been bored when she was a witch. Permanently bewildered and overworked yes, but not bored.
She kept telling herself it’d probably be better when she really was queen, although he said.“Tell you what,” said Nanny, patting Pewsey on the head and then absentmindedly wiping her hand on her dress, “you see them young ladies on the other side of the square? They’ve got lots of sweeties.”Pewsey waddled off.“That’s germ warfare, that is,” said Granny Weatherwax.“Come on,” said Nanny. “Our Jason’s put a couple of chairs in the circle. You sure you’re all right?”“I’ll do.”Perdita Nitt traipsed across the road again.“Er ... Mrs. Ogg?”“Yes, dear?”
Bugger off, my precious, Nana’s busy right this minute.”
Pewsey pulled hard on Nanny Ogg’s skirts.
“Now sweetie now!”
Granny Weatherwax leaned down until her impressive nose was about level with Pewsey’s gushing one.
“If you don’t go away,” she said gravely, “I will personal-ly rip your head off and fill it with snakes.”
“There!” said Nanny Ogg. “There’s lots of poor children in Klatch that’d be grateful for a curse like that.”
Pewsey’s little face, after a second or two of uncertainty, split into a pumpkin grin.
“Funny lady,” “Er. Diamanda says you don’t understand, she says they won’t be trying to outstare one another ...”
Magrat was bored. She’d never been bored when she was a witch. Permanently bewildered and overworked yes, but not bored.
She kept telling herself it’d probably be better when she really was queen, although he said.“Tell you what,” said Nanny, patting Pewsey on the head and then absentmindedly wiping her hand on her dress, “you see them young ladies on the other side of the square? They’ve got lots of sweeties.”Pewsey waddled off.“That’s germ warfare, that is,” said Granny Weatherwax.“Come on,” said Nanny. “Our Jason’s put a couple of chairs in the circle. You sure you’re all right?”“I’ll do.”Perdita Nitt traipsed across the road again.“Er ... Mrs. Ogg?”“Yes, dear?”
2009年4月17日星期五
John William Waterhouse The Siren
John William Waterhouse The SirenJohn William Waterhouse The Lady ClareJohn William Waterhouse Flora
can't do that!"
"Someone will have to. Please listen to me. Vorbis is dead. He's paid."
"Not enough. What about your soldiers? They tried to sack our city!"
"Do your soldiers obey your orders?"
"Certainly! "
"And they'd cut me down here and now if you commanded it?"
"I should say so!"
"And I'm unarmed," said Brutha.
The sun beat A voice echoed in his head, like the person behind you who says, "Put the red Queen on the black King," when you think you have been playing all by yourself . . .
I. What?
"This will encourage . . . local effort," said Brutha.
IL Other Gods? Here?
"There will be free trade along the coast. I wish to see Omnia take its place among its fellow nations."
III. I heard You Mention Other Gods.down on an awkward pause."When I say they'd obey-” Argavisti began."We were not sent here to parley," said Borvorius abruptly. "Vorbis's death changes nothing fundamental. We are here to see that Omnia is no longer a threat.""It is not. We will sent materials and people to help rebuild Ephebe. And gold, if you like. We will reduce the size of our army. And so on. Consider us beaten. We will even open Omnia to whatever other religions wish to build holy places here."
can't do that!"
"Someone will have to. Please listen to me. Vorbis is dead. He's paid."
"Not enough. What about your soldiers? They tried to sack our city!"
"Do your soldiers obey your orders?"
"Certainly! "
"And they'd cut me down here and now if you commanded it?"
"I should say so!"
"And I'm unarmed," said Brutha.
The sun beat A voice echoed in his head, like the person behind you who says, "Put the red Queen on the black King," when you think you have been playing all by yourself . . .
I. What?
"This will encourage . . . local effort," said Brutha.
IL Other Gods? Here?
"There will be free trade along the coast. I wish to see Omnia take its place among its fellow nations."
III. I heard You Mention Other Gods.down on an awkward pause."When I say they'd obey-” Argavisti began."We were not sent here to parley," said Borvorius abruptly. "Vorbis's death changes nothing fundamental. We are here to see that Omnia is no longer a threat.""It is not. We will sent materials and people to help rebuild Ephebe. And gold, if you like. We will reduce the size of our army. And so on. Consider us beaten. We will even open Omnia to whatever other religions wish to build holy places here."
2009年4月15日星期三
Lord Frederick Leighton Nausicaa
Lord Frederick Leighton NausicaaJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Napoleon I on His Imperial ThroneJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Mme Moitessier
coconuts. In the stifling empty silence of the desert, it echoed loudly.
"What was that?"
"Definitely not a skull," lied Om. "Don't worry . . .
"There's bones everywhere!"
"Well"Only one-”
"-generally a solitary creature. Most to be feared are the old males, who are forced into the most inhospitable regions by their younger rivals. They are eviltempered and cunning and in their extremity ? What did you expect? This is a desert! People die here! It's a very popular occupation in this vicinity!"Brutha picked up a bone. He was, as he well knew, stupid. But people didn't gnaw their own bones after they died."Om-”"There's water here!" shouted Om. "We need it! But-there's probably one or two drawbacks!""What kind of drawbacks?""As in natural hazards!""Like-?""Well, you know lions?" said Om desperately."There's lions here?""Well . . . slightly.""Slightly lions?""Only one lion."
coconuts. In the stifling empty silence of the desert, it echoed loudly.
"What was that?"
"Definitely not a skull," lied Om. "Don't worry . . .
"There's bones everywhere!"
"Well"Only one-”
"-generally a solitary creature. Most to be feared are the old males, who are forced into the most inhospitable regions by their younger rivals. They are eviltempered and cunning and in their extremity ? What did you expect? This is a desert! People die here! It's a very popular occupation in this vicinity!"Brutha picked up a bone. He was, as he well knew, stupid. But people didn't gnaw their own bones after they died."Om-”"There's water here!" shouted Om. "We need it! But-there's probably one or two drawbacks!""What kind of drawbacks?""As in natural hazards!""Like-?""Well, you know lions?" said Om desperately."There's lions here?""Well . . . slightly.""Slightly lions?""Only one lion."
Edward Hopper Tables for Ladies
Edward Hopper Tables for LadiesEdward Hopper Sunlight in a CafeteriaEdward Hopper Summer Interior
not a barbarian one," said Aristocrates mildly. "Weapons will not be required here."
"Barbarian?" said Vorbis. "You burned our ships!"
Aristocrates held up a hand.
"This is a times of war," he said. "If you can remember the way, you are free to use it. But vague perambulations in the labyrinth are unwise, I must warn you. Our ancestors were sadly very suspicious and put in many traps out of distrust; we keep them well-greased and primed, of course, merely out of a respect for tradition. And now, if you would care to follow me . . ."
The Omnians kept together as they followed Aristocrates through the palace. There were fountains. There were gardens. Here and there groups of people sat around doing nothing very much discussion for later," he said. "My pleasant task now is to show you to your quarters. I am sure you would like to rest a little after your journey. You are, of course, at liberty to wander anywhere you wish in the palace. And if there is anywhere where we do not wish you to wander, the guards will be sure to inform you with speed and tact.""And we can leave the palace?" said Vorbis coldly.Aristocrates shrugged."We do not guard the gateway except in
not a barbarian one," said Aristocrates mildly. "Weapons will not be required here."
"Barbarian?" said Vorbis. "You burned our ships!"
Aristocrates held up a hand.
"This is a times of war," he said. "If you can remember the way, you are free to use it. But vague perambulations in the labyrinth are unwise, I must warn you. Our ancestors were sadly very suspicious and put in many traps out of distrust; we keep them well-greased and primed, of course, merely out of a respect for tradition. And now, if you would care to follow me . . ."
The Omnians kept together as they followed Aristocrates through the palace. There were fountains. There were gardens. Here and there groups of people sat around doing nothing very much discussion for later," he said. "My pleasant task now is to show you to your quarters. I am sure you would like to rest a little after your journey. You are, of course, at liberty to wander anywhere you wish in the palace. And if there is anywhere where we do not wish you to wander, the guards will be sure to inform you with speed and tact.""And we can leave the palace?" said Vorbis coldly.Aristocrates shrugged."We do not guard the gateway except in
2009年4月13日星期一
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the Nymphs
John William Waterhouse Hylas and the NymphsJohn William Waterhouse Waterhouse OpheliaLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra Benci
creature as this? A bull, yes, of course, an eagle, certainly, and I think on one occasion a swan . . . but a tortoise?"
"Your sexual organs to sprout wings and fly away!"
"After all," Nhumrod went on, oblivious to the secret chorus in Brutha's head, "what kind of miracles could a tortoise do? Mmm?"
"Your ankles to be crushed in the jaws of giants!"
"Turn lettuce"Your intestines to be wound around a tree until you are sorry!"
Nhumrod looked around the garden. It seemed to be full of melons and pumpkins and cucumbers. He shuddered.
"Lots of cold water, that's the thing," he said. "Lots and lots." He focused on Brutha again. "Mmm?"
He wandered off toward the kitchens. into gold, perhaps?" said Brother Nhumrod , in the jovial tones of those blessed with no sense of humor. "Crush ants underfoot? Ahaha.""Haha," said Brutha dutifully."I shall take it along to the kitchen, out of your way," said the master of novices. "They make excellent soup. And then you'll hear no more voices, depend upon it. Fire cures all Follies, yes?""Soup?""Er . . ." said Brutha.
creature as this? A bull, yes, of course, an eagle, certainly, and I think on one occasion a swan . . . but a tortoise?"
"Your sexual organs to sprout wings and fly away!"
"After all," Nhumrod went on, oblivious to the secret chorus in Brutha's head, "what kind of miracles could a tortoise do? Mmm?"
"Your ankles to be crushed in the jaws of giants!"
"Turn lettuce"Your intestines to be wound around a tree until you are sorry!"
Nhumrod looked around the garden. It seemed to be full of melons and pumpkins and cucumbers. He shuddered.
"Lots of cold water, that's the thing," he said. "Lots and lots." He focused on Brutha again. "Mmm?"
He wandered off toward the kitchens. into gold, perhaps?" said Brother Nhumrod , in the jovial tones of those blessed with no sense of humor. "Crush ants underfoot? Ahaha.""Haha," said Brutha dutifully."I shall take it along to the kitchen, out of your way," said the master of novices. "They make excellent soup. And then you'll hear no more voices, depend upon it. Fire cures all Follies, yes?""Soup?""Er . . ." said Brutha.
Frida Kahlo Diego and I
Frida Kahlo Diego and IDouglas Hofmann ModelDouglas Hofmann Jessica
get worshiped, at least by anything bigger than bacteria, who never say their prayers and don't demand much in the way of miracles.
They are the small gods-the spirits of places where two ant trails cross, the gods of microclimates down between it goes further. More rocks are added, more stones are raised, a temple is built on the site where the tree once stood. The god grows in strength, the belief of its worshipers raising it upwards like a thousand tons of rocket fuel. For a very few, the sky's the limit.
And, sometimes, not even that.
Brother Nhumrod was wrestling with impure thoughts in the privacy of his severe the grass roots. And most of them stay that way.Because what they lack is belief.A handful, though, go on to greater things. Anything may trigger it. A shepherd, seeking a lost lamb, finds it among the briars and takes a minute or two to build a small cairn of stones in general thanks to whatever spirits might be around the place. Or a peculiarly shaped tree becomes associated with a cure for disease. Or someone carves a spiral on an isolated stone. Because what gods need is belief, and what humans want is gods.Often it stops there. But sometimes
get worshiped, at least by anything bigger than bacteria, who never say their prayers and don't demand much in the way of miracles.
They are the small gods-the spirits of places where two ant trails cross, the gods of microclimates down between it goes further. More rocks are added, more stones are raised, a temple is built on the site where the tree once stood. The god grows in strength, the belief of its worshipers raising it upwards like a thousand tons of rocket fuel. For a very few, the sky's the limit.
And, sometimes, not even that.
Brother Nhumrod was wrestling with impure thoughts in the privacy of his severe the grass roots. And most of them stay that way.Because what they lack is belief.A handful, though, go on to greater things. Anything may trigger it. A shepherd, seeking a lost lamb, finds it among the briars and takes a minute or two to build a small cairn of stones in general thanks to whatever spirits might be around the place. Or a peculiarly shaped tree becomes associated with a cure for disease. Or someone carves a spiral on an isolated stone. Because what gods need is belief, and what humans want is gods.Often it stops there. But sometimes
2009年4月10日星期五
Sandro Botticelli Madonna and Child
Sandro Botticelli Madonna and ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and Child and Two AngelsJean Beraud The Theatre des Varietes
'Listen,' said Rincewind urgently. 'I get vertigo just listening to tall stories.'
'Oh, quite,' the Seriph burped gently, 'genuine. Very pretty pattern.' He squinted at the bottle again, and sighed. 'It was a lovely blue colour,' he added.
'And you wouldn't happen to know where it is?' said Conina slowly, in the manner of one creeping up very carefully to'I'm not going to ride on a magic carpet!' he hissed. 'I'm afraid of grounds!'
'You mean heights,' said Conina. And stop being silly.'
'I know what I mean! It's the grounds that kill you!'
The battle of Al Khali was a hammer-headed cloud, in whose roiling depths weird shapes could be heard and strange sounds were seen. Occasional misses seared across the a wild animal that might take fright at any moment.'In the treasury. I know the way there. I'm extremely rich, you know. Or so they tell me.' He lowered his voice and tried to wink at Conina, eventually managing it with both eyes. 'We could sit on it,' he said, breaking into a sweat. 'And you could tell me a story...'Rincewind tried to scream through gritted teeth.His ankles were already beginning to sweat.
'Listen,' said Rincewind urgently. 'I get vertigo just listening to tall stories.'
'Oh, quite,' the Seriph burped gently, 'genuine. Very pretty pattern.' He squinted at the bottle again, and sighed. 'It was a lovely blue colour,' he added.
'And you wouldn't happen to know where it is?' said Conina slowly, in the manner of one creeping up very carefully to'I'm not going to ride on a magic carpet!' he hissed. 'I'm afraid of grounds!'
'You mean heights,' said Conina. And stop being silly.'
'I know what I mean! It's the grounds that kill you!'
The battle of Al Khali was a hammer-headed cloud, in whose roiling depths weird shapes could be heard and strange sounds were seen. Occasional misses seared across the a wild animal that might take fright at any moment.'In the treasury. I know the way there. I'm extremely rich, you know. Or so they tell me.' He lowered his voice and tried to wink at Conina, eventually managing it with both eyes. 'We could sit on it,' he said, breaking into a sweat. 'And you could tell me a story...'Rincewind tried to scream through gritted teeth.His ankles were already beginning to sweat.
2009年4月8日星期三
Andy Warhol Flowers Red 1964
Andy Warhol Flowers Red 1964Andy Warhol Fiesta PigAndy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red
She disposed of the last of the leader's bodyguard with a couple of thrusts that made Rincewind's eyes water and, with a sigh, vaulted the rail on the main deck. To Rincewind's annoyance the Luggage barrelled after her, cushioning its falland ricocheted past his ear. He raised his hand to the sudden stinging pain, and stared at in in horror before gently passing out. It wasn't blood in general he couldn't stand the sight of, it was just his blood in particular that was so upsetting.
The market in Sator Square, the wide expanse of cobbles outside the black gates of the University, was in full cry. by dropping heavily on to a slaver, and adding to the sudden panic of the invaders because, while it was bad enough to be attacked with deadly and ferocious accuracy by a rather pretty girl in a white dress with flowers on it, it was even worse for the male ego to be tripped up and bitten by a travel accessory; it was pretty bad for all the rest of the male, too.Rincewind peered over the railing.'Showoff,' he muttered.A throwing knife clipped the wood near his chin
She disposed of the last of the leader's bodyguard with a couple of thrusts that made Rincewind's eyes water and, with a sigh, vaulted the rail on the main deck. To Rincewind's annoyance the Luggage barrelled after her, cushioning its falland ricocheted past his ear. He raised his hand to the sudden stinging pain, and stared at in in horror before gently passing out. It wasn't blood in general he couldn't stand the sight of, it was just his blood in particular that was so upsetting.
The market in Sator Square, the wide expanse of cobbles outside the black gates of the University, was in full cry. by dropping heavily on to a slaver, and adding to the sudden panic of the invaders because, while it was bad enough to be attacked with deadly and ferocious accuracy by a rather pretty girl in a white dress with flowers on it, it was even worse for the male ego to be tripped up and bitten by a travel accessory; it was pretty bad for all the rest of the male, too.Rincewind peered over the railing.'Showoff,' he muttered.A throwing knife clipped the wood near his chin
John Constable Wivenhoe Park Essex
John Constable Wivenhoe Park EssexJohn Constable Weymouth BayJohn William Waterhouse Destiny 1900John William Waterhouse The Siren
'Somewhere in, um, Virrid's apartments, I suppose.'
'We'd better fetch it,' said Carding.
He paused in the , black-clad thief.
The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief. This thief was an artist of theft. Other thieves merely stole everything that was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well. This thief had scandalised Ankh by taking a particular interest in stealing, with astonishing success, things that were in fact not only nailed down but also guarded by keen-doorway and stroked his beard reflectively. 'I remember Ipslore,' he said. 'We were students together. Wild fellow. Odd habits. Superb wizard, of course, before he went to the bad. Had a funny way of twitching his eyebrow, I remember, when he was excited.' Carding looked blankly across forty years of memory, and shivered.'The hat,' he reminded himself. 'Let's find it. It would be a shame if anything happened to it.' In fact the hat had no intention of letting anything happen to it, and was currently hurrying towards the Mended Drum under the arm of a rather puzzled
'Somewhere in, um, Virrid's apartments, I suppose.'
'We'd better fetch it,' said Carding.
He paused in the , black-clad thief.
The thief, as will become apparent, was a special type of thief. This thief was an artist of theft. Other thieves merely stole everything that was not nailed down, but this thief stole the nails as well. This thief had scandalised Ankh by taking a particular interest in stealing, with astonishing success, things that were in fact not only nailed down but also guarded by keen-doorway and stroked his beard reflectively. 'I remember Ipslore,' he said. 'We were students together. Wild fellow. Odd habits. Superb wizard, of course, before he went to the bad. Had a funny way of twitching his eyebrow, I remember, when he was excited.' Carding looked blankly across forty years of memory, and shivered.'The hat,' he reminded himself. 'Let's find it. It would be a shame if anything happened to it.' In fact the hat had no intention of letting anything happen to it, and was currently hurrying towards the Mended Drum under the arm of a rather puzzled
2009年4月7日星期二
George Frederick Watts Creation
George Frederick Watts CreationUnknown Artist Venice Grand CanalUnknown Artist Grand Canal scene
steam and tore into the blockage, ripping it out with incredible ease. ‘Hey, look at me!’ said Schleppel. ‘You’re right. A bogeyman needs a door like a fish needs a bicycle! Say it now and say it loud, I’m -‘ ‘And now could you get out of the way, please?’
‘Sure. Sure. Wow!’ Schleppel took another swipe at the Queen.
The trolley shot forward.
‘And There was a sound behind them like an eruption of swamp gas. Green light streamed past.
‘The spells are starting to go off!’ shouted the Dean. ‘Move it!’ The trolley whirred out of the entrance and soared up into the cool of the night, wheels screaming.
‘Yo!’ bellowed Ridcully, as the crowd scattered ahead of them.
‘Does that mean I can say yo too?’ said the Deanyou’d better come with us!’ Windle shouted, as Schleppel disappeared in the mists.‘No he shouldn’t,’ said the Archchancellor, as they sped along. ‘Believe me. What was it?’‘He’s a bogeyman,’ said Windle.‘I thought you only get them in closets and things?’ shouted Ridcully. ‘He’s come out of the closet,’ said Reg Shoe proudly. ‘And he’s found himself.’‘Just so long as we can lose him.’‘We can’t just leave him -‘‘We can! We can!’ snapped Ridcully.
steam and tore into the blockage, ripping it out with incredible ease. ‘Hey, look at me!’ said Schleppel. ‘You’re right. A bogeyman needs a door like a fish needs a bicycle! Say it now and say it loud, I’m -‘ ‘And now could you get out of the way, please?’
‘Sure. Sure. Wow!’ Schleppel took another swipe at the Queen.
The trolley shot forward.
‘And There was a sound behind them like an eruption of swamp gas. Green light streamed past.
‘The spells are starting to go off!’ shouted the Dean. ‘Move it!’ The trolley whirred out of the entrance and soared up into the cool of the night, wheels screaming.
‘Yo!’ bellowed Ridcully, as the crowd scattered ahead of them.
‘Does that mean I can say yo too?’ said the Deanyou’d better come with us!’ Windle shouted, as Schleppel disappeared in the mists.‘No he shouldn’t,’ said the Archchancellor, as they sped along. ‘Believe me. What was it?’‘He’s a bogeyman,’ said Windle.‘I thought you only get them in closets and things?’ shouted Ridcully. ‘He’s come out of the closet,’ said Reg Shoe proudly. ‘And he’s found himself.’‘Just so long as we can lose him.’‘We can’t just leave him -‘‘We can! We can!’ snapped Ridcully.
2009年4月6日星期一
Johannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and Martha
Johannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and MarthaUnknown Artist warmth by volkUnknown Artist James Wiens Birch Silhouette I
Here we go again!’
‘Any more for the Skylark?’
‘Put a sock in it . . .’
The cries trailed off.
Half a dozenmore than go up and
down a field -‘
‘- very fast -‘
‘- cutting the corn like that and stripping the grain off -‘ ‘lt’s done three rows already.’
‘Bugger me!’
‘You can’t hardly see the bits move! What do you think of that, Bill? Bill?’ pairs of eyes followed the Combination Harvester up the field, stared while it was turned around on the headland, watched it come back again.It clicked past, reciprocating and oscillating. At the bottom of the field it turned around neatly. It whirred by again.After a while one of the watchers said, gloomily, ‘It’ll never catch on, you mark my words.’‘Right enough. Who’s going to want a gadget like that?’ said another.‘Sure and it’s only like a big clock. Can’t do anything
They looked around.
Here we go again!’
‘Any more for the Skylark?’
‘Put a sock in it . . .’
The cries trailed off.
Half a dozenmore than go up and
down a field -‘
‘- very fast -‘
‘- cutting the corn like that and stripping the grain off -‘ ‘lt’s done three rows already.’
‘Bugger me!’
‘You can’t hardly see the bits move! What do you think of that, Bill? Bill?’ pairs of eyes followed the Combination Harvester up the field, stared while it was turned around on the headland, watched it come back again.It clicked past, reciprocating and oscillating. At the bottom of the field it turned around neatly. It whirred by again.After a while one of the watchers said, gloomily, ‘It’ll never catch on, you mark my words.’‘Right enough. Who’s going to want a gadget like that?’ said another.‘Sure and it’s only like a big clock. Can’t do anything
They looked around.
2009年4月2日星期四
John Constable The Hay Wain
John Constable The Hay WainJohn Constable Salisbury CathedralJohn Constable Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows
Bill Door found he was waiting expectantly. He was not familiar with people who had an attention span of less than three seconds. ‘You work along of Miss Flitworth’s?’
YES.
‘My dad says you’ve got your feet properly under the table there.’ Bill Door couldn’t think of an answer to this because he didn’t know what it meant. It was one of those many flat statements humans made that were really just a disguise for something more subtle. which was often conveyed merely by the tone of voice or a look in the eyes, neither of which was being done by the child.‘My dad says she said she’s got boxes of treasure.’HAS SHE?‘I’ve got tuppence.’MY GOODNESS.‘Sal!’They both looked up as Mrs Lifton appeared on the doorstep.‘Bedtime for you. Stop worrying Mr Door.’OH, I ASSURE YOU SHE IS NOT -
‘Say goodnight, now.’
‘How do skelingtons go to sleep? They can’t close their eyes because -‘ He heard their voices, muffled. inside the inn.
‘You mustn’t call Mr Door that just because . . . he’s . . . very . . . he’s very thin .
Bill Door found he was waiting expectantly. He was not familiar with people who had an attention span of less than three seconds. ‘You work along of Miss Flitworth’s?’
YES.
‘My dad says you’ve got your feet properly under the table there.’ Bill Door couldn’t think of an answer to this because he didn’t know what it meant. It was one of those many flat statements humans made that were really just a disguise for something more subtle. which was often conveyed merely by the tone of voice or a look in the eyes, neither of which was being done by the child.‘My dad says she said she’s got boxes of treasure.’HAS SHE?‘I’ve got tuppence.’MY GOODNESS.‘Sal!’They both looked up as Mrs Lifton appeared on the doorstep.‘Bedtime for you. Stop worrying Mr Door.’OH, I ASSURE YOU SHE IS NOT -
‘Say goodnight, now.’
‘How do skelingtons go to sleep? They can’t close their eyes because -‘ He heard their voices, muffled. inside the inn.
‘You mustn’t call Mr Door that just because . . . he’s . . . very . . . he’s very thin .
Ford Madox Brown Work
Ford Madox Brown WorkFord Madox Brown Romeo and JulietPierre Auguste Renoir La Promenade
took a deep breath.
‘Dock-a-loodle-fod!’
Now that the memory problem was solved, there was only the dyslexia to worry about.
Up in the high fields the wind was strong and the sun was close and strong. Bill Door strode back and forth through Door.’
He climbed down in the darkness and opened the door cautiously.
Miss FIitworth was shielding a candle with one hand.
‘Um.’ she said.
I AM SORRY?
‘You can come into the house, if you likethe stricken grass of the hillside like a shuttle across a green weave.He wondered if he’d ever felt wind and sunlight before. Yes, he’d felt them, he must have done. But he’d never experienced them like this; the way wind pushed at you, the way the sun made you hot. The way you could feel Time passing.Carrying you with it.‘Come on down here, Bill
took a deep breath.
‘Dock-a-loodle-fod!’
Now that the memory problem was solved, there was only the dyslexia to worry about.
Up in the high fields the wind was strong and the sun was close and strong. Bill Door strode back and forth through Door.’
He climbed down in the darkness and opened the door cautiously.
Miss FIitworth was shielding a candle with one hand.
‘Um.’ she said.
I AM SORRY?
‘You can come into the house, if you likethe stricken grass of the hillside like a shuttle across a green weave.He wondered if he’d ever felt wind and sunlight before. Yes, he’d felt them, he must have done. But he’d never experienced them like this; the way wind pushed at you, the way the sun made you hot. The way you could feel Time passing.Carrying you with it.‘Come on down here, Bill
2009年4月1日星期三
Pino Soft Light
Pino Soft LightPino Long DayPino DesirePablo Picasso Weeping Woman with HandkerchiefPablo Picasso Large Nude in Red Armchair
What am I supposed to do?’
‘Dunno. I suppose they’re yours, Throat. Can imagine why anyone’d want to get rid of ‘em, though.
He turned towards the door. Throat stepped into his path.
‘Then that’ll be twelve pence, ‘ he said smoothly.
‘What for?
‘For the gave the globe another shake.
‘Nice, ain’t they?’ he said.
‘Worth every penny,’ said Dibbler. He rubbed his hands together hopefully.’Should sell like hot cake’ he said, picking up a handful and shoving them into box.
He locked the door behind them when they left.
In the darkness something went plop.one you just put in your pocket, Fred.’Colon fished the globe out of his pocket.‘Come on!’ he protested.’You just found them ?heh? They didn’t cost you a penny!’‘Yes, but there’s storage . . . packing . . . handling . .‘Tuppence, ‘ said Colon desperately.‘Tenpence.’‘Threepence.’‘Sevenpence - and that’s cutting my own throat ??? mark you.’‘Done,’ said the sergeant, reluctantly. He
What am I supposed to do?’
‘Dunno. I suppose they’re yours, Throat. Can imagine why anyone’d want to get rid of ‘em, though.
He turned towards the door. Throat stepped into his path.
‘Then that’ll be twelve pence, ‘ he said smoothly.
‘What for?
‘For the gave the globe another shake.
‘Nice, ain’t they?’ he said.
‘Worth every penny,’ said Dibbler. He rubbed his hands together hopefully.’Should sell like hot cake’ he said, picking up a handful and shoving them into box.
He locked the door behind them when they left.
In the darkness something went plop.one you just put in your pocket, Fred.’Colon fished the globe out of his pocket.‘Come on!’ he protested.’You just found them ?heh? They didn’t cost you a penny!’‘Yes, but there’s storage . . . packing . . . handling . .‘Tuppence, ‘ said Colon desperately.‘Tenpence.’‘Threepence.’‘Sevenpence - and that’s cutting my own throat ??? mark you.’‘Done,’ said the sergeant, reluctantly. He
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