Pino Long Day

Pino Long DayPino DesirePablo Picasso Weeping Woman with HandkerchiefPablo Picasso Large Nude in Red ArmchairTamara de Lempicka Woman in Red
Meanwhile, over Holy Wood, the fog thickened . . .

The posters for Blown Away had been circulating in Ankh­Morpork for several days, and interest was running at fever pitch.
’ said the Chair of Indefinite Studies. He was one of the fattest wizards, and so overstuffed that he seemed to be living up to his title. He looked as though horsehair should be leaking from frayed patches. People felt an overpowering urge to rummage down the side of him for loose change.
‘What’s "It", Chair?’ said another wizard.
‘Oh, you know. It. Oomph. The old way‑hey‑hey.’They’d even got as far as the University this time. The Librarian had one pinned up in the fetid, book‑lined nest he called and various others were surreptitiously circulating among the wizards themselves.The artist had produced a masterpiece. Held in Victor’s arms, against the background of the flaming city, Ginger was portrayed as not only showing nearly all she had but quite a lot of what she had not, strictly speaking, got.The effect on the wizards was everything that Dibbler could possibly have hoped for. In the Uncommon Room, the poster was passed from hand to shaking hand as if it might explode.‘There’s a girl who’s got It,

Herbert James Draper Pot Pourri

Herbert James Draper Pot PourriHerbert James Draper Portrait Of Miss Barbara De SelincourtHerbert James Draper Day and the DawnstarGeorge Inness The Delaware Water GapGeorge Inness Spring
Dibbler raised his hands. ‘I said I’d raise the money somehow,’ he said, ‘and Sham Harga’s even helping us with the food for the barbecue scene.’
‘You said you weren’t going to interfere with the script!’
‘That’s not interfering,’ said Dibbler stolidly. ‘I don’t see how that could be considered interfering. I just polished it up here and there. I think it’s rather an improvement. Besides, Harp’s All‑You­Can‑Gobble‑For‑A‑Dollar is amazing value these days.’
‘But the click is set hundreds of years ago!’ shouted Soll.
‘We=ell,’ ‘Right. Certainly. Gaspode, stay. There’s a good dog.’ Victor derived a quiet satisfaction from the brief look of pure disgust that flashed across Gaspode’s face.
Behind them the eternal Holy Wood argument had wound said Dibbler. ‘I suppose someone could say, "I wonder if the food at Harga’s House of Ribs will still be as good in hundreds of years’ time‑" ‘‘That isn’t moving pictures. That is crass commerce!’‘I hope so,’ said Dibbler. ‘We’re in real trouble if it isn’t.’‘Now look‑‘ Soll began, threateningly.Ginger turned to Victor.‘Can we go somewhere and talk?’ she said, quietly. ‘Without your dog,’ she added, in her normal voice. ‘Definitely without your dog.’‘You want to talk to me?’ said Victor.‘There hasn’t been much of a chance, has there?’

Winslow Homer Rowing Home

Winslow Homer Rowing HomeWinslow Homer Kissing the MoonWinslow Homer Gloucester HarborEdward Hopper Second Story SunlightEdward Hopper Route 6 Eastham
gave Soll a long, thoughtful scrutiny. Then, when the attention was no longer on them, he sidled closer to the newcomer, looked it up and down, and spoke quietly out of the corner of his mouth.
‘What you here for?’ he said.
The dog gave him a look of handsome incomprehension.
‘I mean, do ‘This is Holy Wood,’ said Gaspode conversationally. ‘I’m Gaspode. Named after the famous Gaspode, you know. Anythin’ you want to know, you just-’
‘All dese two-legs here. Dur . . . What dis place?’
Gaspode stared.
At that moment Dibbler’s door opened. Victor emerged, coughing, at one end of you b’long to someone or what?’ said Gaspode. The dog whined softly. Gaspode tried Basic Canine, which is a combination of whines and sniffs. ‘Hallo?’ he ventured. ‘Anyone in there?’ The dog’s tail thumped uncertainly. ‘The grub here’s ruddy awful,’ said Gaspode. The dog raised its highly-bred muzzle. ‘What dis place?’ it said.

Edward Hopper New York New Haven and Hartford

Edward Hopper New York New Haven and HartfordEdgar Degas Rehearsal on the StageEdgar Degas Woman Combing Her HairFrederic Edwin Church The Andes of EcuadorFrederic Edwin Church Rainy Season in the Tropics
there’s certainly no elephants,’ snapped Silverfish.
Rock put up a craggy arm.
‘Yes?’ demanded Silverfish.
‘If you’ve got some grey paint an’ stuff to make the ears out of, I’m sure me an’ Morry could–’
‘No-one’s ever done a three-reeler,’ said Gaffer reflectively. ‘Could be really tricky. I mean, it’d be nearly ten minutes long.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose if I was to make the spools bigger-’
Silverfish knew he was cornered.
‘Now look here,’ he began.
Victor staredknow,’ she said, sitting down on the sand, ‘there’s all kind of rules for the imps and things, they mustn’t be worn out, what down at the girl. Everyone else was ignoring them. ‘Er,’ he said, ‘I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?’ ‘You didn’t seem to let that stop you,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t normally do something like that. I must have been . . . ill. Or something.’ ‘Oh, good. And that makes me feel a lot better, does it?’ ‘Shall we sit in the shade? It’s very hot out here.’ ‘Your eyes went all . . . smouldery.’ ‘Did they?’ ‘They looked really odd.’ ‘I felt really odd.’ ‘I know. It’s this place. It gets to you. D’you
kind of food they get, stuff like that: No-one cares about us, though. Even the trolls get

Henri Rousseau Exotic Landscape

Henri Rousseau Exotic LandscapeHenri Rousseau Exotic Landscape 1908Henri Rousseau EveHenri Rousseau Carnival EveningHenri Rousseau Boy on the Rocks
midnight - not the same midnight as before, but a very similar midnight. Old Tom, the tongueless bell in the Universitybody extended up the wall. This is a perfectly normal position for a student taking his ease.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Right. OK? What, right, what is the name of the outerdimensional monster whose distinctive cry is "Yerwhatyerwhatyerwhat"?’
‘Yob Soddoth,’ said Ponder promptly.
‘Yeah. How does the monster Tshup Aklathep, Infernal Star Toad with A Million Young, torture its victims to death?’ bell tower, had just tolled its twelve sonorous silences. Rainclouds squeezed their last few drops over the city. Ankh-Morpork sprawled under a few damp stars, as real as a brick. Ponder Stibbons, student wizard, put down his book and rubbed his face. ‘All right,’ he said. ‘Ask me anything. Go on. Anything at all.’ Victor Tugelbend, student wizard, picked up his battered copy of Necrotelicomnicon Discussed for Students, with Practical Experiments and turned the pages at random. He was lying on Ponder’s bed. At least, his shoulder blades were. His

Henri Matisse Woman with a Hat

Henri Matisse Woman with a HatHenri Matisse The WindowHenri Matisse The Green LineHenri Matisse Red FishHenri Matisse Pink Nude
pulling away now, pulling away, Gil and Scrab appear to be fighting, she's got a clear sky and, yes, yes . . . yes! . . . it's noon! It's noon! It's noon!'
Silence. The priest was aware that everyone was staring at him.
Then worshipper by his arms and legs and gave him a high-speed run across the stones to the edge of the balcony, over the parapet and into the mud-coloured waters of the Djel.
He surfaced, spluttering.
'What did you go and do that for?' he demanded. 'You all know I'm right. None of you really-'
The waters of the Djel opened a lazy jaw, and he vanished, just as the huge winged someone said, 'Why are you shouting into that bulrush?' 'Sorry. Don't know what came over me there.' The priestess of Sarduk, Goddess of Caves, snorted at him. 'Suppose one of them had dropped it?' she snapped. 'But . . . but . . .' He swallowed. 'It's not possible, is it? Not really? We all must have eaten something, or been out in the sun too long, or something. Because, I mean, everyone knows that the gods aren't . . . I mean, the sun is a big flaming ball of gas, isn't it, that goes around the whole world every day, and, and, and the gods... well, you know, there's a very real need in people to believe, don't get me wrong here-' Koomi, even with his head buzzing with thoughts of perfidy, was quicker on the uptake than his colleagues. 'Get him, lads!' he shouted. Four priests grabbed the luckless cutlery

Jack Vettriano The Birth of a Dream

Jack Vettriano The Birth of a DreamJack Vettriano The Billy BoysJack Vettriano The Big TeaseJack Vettriano The Barmaid's FancyJack Vettriano The Assessors
of nomads with their towels on their heads. All that remained of those great days was the ruinously-expensive palace, a few dusty ruins in the desert and - the pharaoh sighed - the pyramids. Always the pyramids.
His in the river .
He watched two of the servants load Teppic's trunk on to the back of the coach, and for the first time either of them could remember laid a paternal hand on his son's shoulder.
In fact he was at a loss for something to say. We've never really had time to get ancestors had been keen on pyramids. The pharaoh wasn't. Pyramids had bankrupted the country, drained it drier than ever the river did. The only curse they could afford to put on a tomb these days was 'Bugger Off'. The only pyramids he felt comfortable about were the very small ones at the bottom of the garden, built every time one of the cats died. He'd promised the boy's mother. He missed Artela. There'd been a terrible row about taking a wife from outside the Kingdom, and some of her foreign ways had puzzled and fascinated even him. Maybe it was from her he'd got the strange dislike of pyramids; in Djelibeybi that was like disliking breathing. But he'd promised that Pteppic could go to school outside the kingdom. She'd been insistent about that. 'People never learn anything in this place,' she'd said. 'They only remember things.' If only she'd remembered about not swimming

Frida Kahlo Fruits of the Earth

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had spent ages learning its craft. It had spent years lurking in distant valleys. It had practised for hours in front of a glacier. It had studied the great storms of the past. It had honed its art to perfection. And now, tonight,'Never mind,' said Granny. 'Just look busy, and wait until I say.'
As the Evil King and the Good Duke began the exchange that was going to lead to the exciting Duel Scene they became uncomfortably aware of activity behind them, and occasional chuckles from the audience. After a totally inappropriate burst of laughter Tomjon risked a sideways glance. with what it could see was clearly an appreciative audience waiting for it, it was going to take them by, well . . . tempest.Hwel smiled. Perhaps the gods did listen, after all. He wished he'd asked for a really good wind machine as well.He gestured frantically at Tomjon.'Get on with it!'The boy nodded, and launched into his main speech.'And now our domination is complete—'Behind him on the stage the witches bent over the cauldron.'It's just tin, this one,' hissed Nanny. 'And it's full of all yuk.''And the fire is just red paper,' whispered Magrat. 'It looked so real from up there, it's just red paper! Look, you can poke it—'

Leroy Neiman International Cuisine

Leroy Neiman International CuisineLeroy Neiman High Stakes Blackjack VegasLeroy Neiman Frank at Rao'sLeroy Neiman Ferrari on the BeachLeroy Neiman Elephant Stampede
They flew in chilly silence for several seconds.
'I was speaking wossname. Figuratively,' said Granny.
'Oh. Well. You should of said.'
The line of light was bigger, brighter. For the first time a flicker of doubt invaded Granny Weatherwax's mind, puzzled to find itself in such unfamiliar surroundings.
'I wonder how many cockerels there are in Lancre?' she said quietly.
'Was that one of them wossname questions?'
'I was just wondering.'
Nanny Ogg sat back. There were thirty-two of crowing age, she knew. She knew because she'd worked it out last night – tonight - and had given Jason his instructions. She had fifteen grown-up children and innumerable grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and they'd had most of the evening to get into position. It should be enough.
'Did you 'Your shoulders are shaking!'hear that?' said Granny. 'Over Razorback way?'Nanny looked innocently across the misty landscape. Sound travelled very clearly in these early hours.'What?' she said.'Sort of an "urk" noise?''No.'Granny spun around.'Over there,' she said. 'I definitely heard it this time. Something like "cock-a-doo-arrgh".''Can't say I did, Esme,' said Nanny, smiling at the sky. 'Lancre Bridge up ahead.''And over there! Right down there! It was a definite squawk!''Dawn chorus, Esme, I expect. Look, only half a mile to go.'Granny glared at the back of her colleague's head.'There's something going on here,' she said.'Search me, Esme.'
'Lost my shawl back there. I'm a bit chilly. Look, we're nearly there

William Merritt Chase On the Lake Central Park

William Merritt Chase On the Lake Central ParkWilliam Merritt Chase The NurseryTitian The Three Ages of ManLorenzo Lotto Lotto ArchitectTitian Venus with Organist and Cupid
sky, and then possibly they'd try a few of the old dances described in some of Goodie Whemper's books. Not actually naked, or sky clad as it was rather delightfully called, because Magrat had no illusions about the shape of her .
She stood up, wrapped her damp dress around her, and set off through the misty woods . . .
. . . and heard the running feet. Someone was coming through them at high speed, without caring who heard him. and over the top of the sound of breaking twigs was a curious dull jingling. Magrat sidled behind a dripping holly bush and peered cautiously through the leaves.own body and the older witches seemed solid across the hems, and anyway that wasn't absolutely necessary. The books said that the old-time witches had sometimes danced in their shifts. Magrat had wondered about how you danced in shifts. Perhaps there wasn't room for them all to dance at once, she'd thought.What she hadn't expected was a couple of crochety old women who were barely civil at the best of times and simply didn't enter into the spirit of things. Oh, they'd been kind to the baby, in their own way, but she couldn't help feeling that if a witch was kind to someone it was entirely for deeply selfish reasons.And when they did magic, they made it look as ordinary as housekeeping. They didn't wear any occult jewellery. Magrat was a great believer in occult jewellery.It was all going wrong. And she was going home

Caravaggio Lute Player

Caravaggio Lute PlayerCaravaggio Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Samson and DelilahAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the Magi
has already been mentioned that Duke Felmet was one step away from the throne. The step in question was at the top of the flight leading to the Great Hall, down which King Verence had tumbled in the dark only to land, against all the laws of probability, on his own dagger.
It had, details about last night that were both hazy and horrible.
He tried to reassure himself that all the unpleasantness was over now, and he had a kingdom. It wasn't much of one, apparently being mainly trees, but it was a kingdom and it had a crown.
If only they could find it.
Lancre Castle was built on an outcrop of rock by an architect who had heard about Gormenghast but hadn't however, been declared by his own physician to be a case of natural causes. Bentzen had gone to see the man and explained that falling down a flight of steps with a dagger in your back was a disease caused by unwise opening of the mouth.In fact it had already been caught by several members of the king's own bodyguard who had been a little bit hard of hearing. There had been a minor epidemic.The duke shuddered. There were

Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a Table

Juan Gris Pears and Grapes on a TableJuan Gris Guitar with ClarinetJuan Gris Guitar on a Table
COULDN'T COME, said Mort. There were shadows forming in the air behind the Vizier's soul. Several of them wore emperor's robes, but there were plenty of others jostling them, and they all looked most anxious to welcome of dust off his robe.
He became aware that he was being watched; on looking up, he discovered that he had flashed into existence under the stern marble gaze of himself.
He adjusted his spectacles and peered disapprovingly at the bronze the newcomer to the lands of the dead.'I think there's some people here to see you,' said Mort, and hurried away. As he reached the passageway the Vizier's soul started to scream. . . .Ysabell was standing patiently by Binky, who was making a late lunch of a five-hundred-year-old bonsai tree.'One down,' said Mort, climbing into the saddle. 'Come on. I've got a bad feeling about the next one, and we haven't much time.' Albert materialised in the centre of Unseen University, in the same place, in fact, from which he had departed the world some two thousand years before.He grunted with satisfaction and brushed a few specks

Thomas Kinkade Pinocchio Wishes Upon a Star

Thomas Kinkade Pinocchio Wishes Upon a StarCao Yong CatalinaUnknown Artist Lazlo Emmerich Kenya
is the bright candlelit room where the are stored – shelf upon shelf of them, squat hourglasses, one for every living person, pouring their fine sand from the future into the past. The accumulated hiss of the falling grains makes the room roar like the sea.
This is the anything so patently absurd actually existing are millions to one.
But magicians have calculated that million-to-one chances crop up nine times out of ten.
Death clicks across the black and white tiled floor on toes of bone, muttering inside his cowl as his skeletal fingers count along the rows of busy hourglasses.
Finally he finds one that seems to satisfy him, lifts it carefully from its shelf owner of the room, stalking through it with a preoccupied air. His name is Death.But not any Death. This is the Death whose particular sphere of operations is, well, not a sphere at all, but the Discworld, which is flat and rides on the back of four giant elephants who stand on the shell of the enormous star turtle Great A'Tuin, and which is bounded by a waterfall that cascades endlessly into space.Scientists have calculated that the chance of

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping Gypsy

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping GypsyLaurie Maitland Symphony in Red and Khaki IVincent van Gogh Poppies 1886
Magic beyond magic," snorted Granny. She took the scone and spread jam on it. After a pause she spread cream on it too.
The sugar lump crashed to the flagstones and was immediately surrounded by another team of ants, ready to harness it to a long
Cutangle shifted uneasily in his seat, which creaked.
"Esmerelda," he began, "I've been meaning to ask -"
"No," said Granny.
"chair on matchstick rollers, the squeaking of the slavedriver ants just at the edge of hearing.
"Hmm," said Granny, "I don't see why not. I've always wanted one of those big wicker ones, you know, with the sort of sunshade bit on the top. If that's not too much trouble."
"That isn't exactly what I meant," said Cutangle, adding quickly, "although I'm sure that could be arranged. No, I mean, would you come and lecture the students? Once in a while?"Actually I was going to say that we think we might allow a few more girls into the University. On an experimental basis. Once we get the plumbing sorted out," said Cutangle. "That's up to you, of course." "And, and, it occurred to me that since we seem destined to become a co-educational establishment, as it were, it seemed to me, that is -" "Well?" "If you might see your way clear to becoming, that is, whether you would accept a Chair." He sat back. The sugar lump passed under his

Francisco de Goya Clothed Maja

Francisco de Goya Clothed MajaEdgar Degas The RehearsalEdgar Degas The Bellelli Family
themselves and swearing.
"Hatpin," said Granny. She grabbed Esk with her free hand and swept towards the high table, glaring at anyone who so much as looked as if they were going to get in her way. The younger students, who knew free associated with Henry VIII but with an option on Henry IX and X as well.
"Well?" he said, "What is the meaning of this outrage?"entertainment when they saw it, stamped and cheered and banged their plates on the long tables. The high table settled on the tiles with a thump and the senior wizards hurriedly lined up behind Cutangle as he tried to summon up his reserves of dignity. His efforts didn't really work; it is very hard to look dignified with a napkin tucked into one's collar. He raised his hands for silence, and the hall waited expectantly as Granny and Esk approached him. Granny was looking interestedly at the ancient paintings and statues of bygone mages. "Who are them buggers?" she said out of the corner of her mouth. "They used to be chief wizards," whispered Esk. "They look constipated. I never met a wizard who was regular," said Granny. "They're a nuisance to dust, that's all I know," said Esk. Cutangle stood with legs planted wide apart, arms akimbo and stomach giving an impression of a beginners' ski slope, the whole of him therefore adopting a pose usually

John Constable Salisbury Cathedral from the Meadows

John Constable Salisbury Cathedral from the MeadowsJohn Constable Hadleigh CastleJohn Constable Flatford Mill
way things take you, and I reckon you're going to wizard school one way or the other."
Esk considered this.
"You mean it's my destiny?" she said at last.
Granny Universety, Greatings, I hop you ar well, I am sending to you won Escarrina Smith, shee bath thee maekings of wizzardery but whot may be ferther dun wyth hyr I knowe not slice is a gode worker and clene about hyr person allso skilled in diuerse arts of thee howse, I will send Monies wyth hyr May you liv longe and ende youre days in pese, And oblije, Esmerelder Weatherwaxe (Mss/ wytch.shrugged. "Something like that. Probably. Who knows? " That night, long after Esk had been sent to bed, Granny put on her hat, lit a fresh candle, cleared the table, and pulled a small wooden box from its secret hiding place in the dresser. It contained a bottle of ink, an elderly quill pen, and a few sheets of paper. Granny was not entirely happy when faced with the world of letters. Her eyes protruded, her tongue stuck out, small beads of sweat formed on her forehead, but the pen scratched its way across the page to the accompaniment of the occasional quiet "drat" or "bugger the thing". The letter read as follows, although this version lacks the candlewax, blots, crossings-out and damp patches of the original. To then Hed blizzard, Unsene

Salvador Dali The Great Masturbator

Salvador Dali The Great MasturbatorSalvador Dali Leda AtomicaJoseph Mallord William Turner The Grand Canal Venice
That wasn't poetic imagery but plain fact, since the world was quite definitely flat and was, furthermore, known to be carried through space on the backs of four elephants that in turn stood on the shell of Great A'Tuin, the Great Sky reason other than that her mother liked the sound of the word, and although Granny Weatherwax kept a careful watch on her she failed to spot any signs of magic whatsoever. It was true that the girl spent more time climbing trees and running around shouting than little girls normally did, but a girl with four older brothers still at Home can be excused a lot of things. In fact, the witch began to relax and started to think the magic had not taken hold after all.
But magic has a habit of lying low, like a rake in the grass.Turtle. Back down there in Bad Ass the village is waking up. The smith has just gone into the forge and found it tidier than it has been for the last hundred years, with all the tools back in their right places, the floor swept and a new fire laid in the furnace. He is sitting on the anvil, which has been moved right across the room, and is watching the staff and is trying to think. Nothing much happened for seven years, except that one of the apple trees in the smithy orchard grew perceptibly taller than the others and was frequently climbed by a small girl with brown hair, a gap in her front teeth, and the sort of features that promised to become, if not beautiful, then at least attractively interesting. She was named Eskarina, for no particular

Fabian Perez Waiting for the romance to come

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tell me where they've gone.'
As Lackjaw looked on in horror the Luggage extended 161 its little legs, braced itself, and ran full tilt at the nearest wall. Clay bricks and dusty mortar exploded around it.
Cohen peered through the hole. There was a small grubby storeroom on the other side. The Luggage stood in the middle of the floor, radiating extreme bafflement.

'Shop!' said Twoflower.
'Anyone here?' said Bethan.
'Urrgh,' said Rincewind.
'I think we ought to sit him down somewhere and get him a glass of water,' said Twoflower. 'If there's one here.'
'There's everything else,' said Bethan.
The a long time.
Twoflower sat Rincewind down on a rickety chair by the counter and poked doubtfully at the shelves. There were boxes of nails, and hairbrushes. There were bars of soap, faded with age. There was a stack of jars containing deliquescent bath salts, to which someone had fixed a rather sad and jaunty little notice announcing, in the face of all the evidence, that one would make an Ideal Gift. There was also room was full of shelves, and the shelves were full of everything. Things that couldn't be accommodated on them hung in bunches from the dark and shadowy ceiling; boxes and sacks of everything spilled onto the floor.There was no sound from outside. Bethan looked around and found out why.'I've never seen so much stuff,' said Twoflower.'There's one thing it's out of stock of,' said Bethan, firmly..'How can you tell?''You just have to look. It's fresh out of exits.'Twoflower turned around. Where the door and window had been there were shelves stacked with boxes; they looked as, though they had been there for

Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the Child

Sandro Botticelli Madonna with the ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and ChildSandro Botticelli Madonna and Child and Two AngelsJean Beraud The Theatre des Varietes
echo canyon, and a small but wiry shape rushed past him.
By the light of the torches he saw that it was a very old man, the skinny variety that generally gets called 'spry', with a totally bald head, a beard almost down to his knees, and a pair of matchstick legs on which varicose veins had to him; the druids that hadn't fled the circle, generally the younger and more muscular ones, had congregated around the old man n order to discuss the whole subject of sacrilege as it pertained to stone circles, but judging by the cackling and sounds of gristle he was carrying the debate.
Twoflower was watching the fight with interest. Rincewind grabbed him by the shoulder.
'Let's go,' he said.
'Shouldn't we help?'traced the street map of quite a large city. Despite the snow he wore nothing more than a studded leather holdall and a pair of boots that could have easily accommodated a second pair of feet.The two druids closest to him exchanged glances and hefted their sickles. There was a brief blur and they collapsed into tight balls of agony, making rattling noises. In the excitement that followed Rincewind sidled along towards the altar stone, holding his knife gingerly so as not to attract any unwelcome comment. In fact no-one was paying a great deal of attention

Jean-Honore Fragonard le jour

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There was a movement in the air and what he later described as 'like, a sort of explosion only backwards, you know?', and before he looked down and gave up, having run out of legs.
Rincewind, meanwhile, had found a path. It wound about a good deal, and he would have been happier if it had been cobbled, but following it gave him something to do.
Several trees tried to strike up a conversation, but Rincewind was nearly certain that this was not normal behaviour for trees and ignored them.
The day lengthened. There was no sound but the murmur of nasty little stinging suddenly where there had only been nothing there was a large, battered, wooden chest.It landed heavily on the leafmould, extended dozens of little legs, and turned around ponderously to look at the shaman. That is to say, it had no face, but even through the mycological haze he was horribly aware that it was looking at him. And not a nice look, either. It was amazing how baleful a keyhole and a couple of knotholes could be.To his intense relief it gave a sort of wooden shrug, and set off through the trees at a canter.With superhuman effort the shaman recalled the correct sequence of movements for standing up and even managed a couple of steps

Thomas Kinkade Heather's Hutch

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encased in cloth tubes. He was wearing a jacket of the same grey material...
Until now he'd never heard the language the man with the amulet was using. It was uncouth and vaguely to show Jack Zweiblumen around when they got back to the States. Yes, that was it. And then Jack had been taken ill and he'd panicked and come through here and surprised this hijacker. Of course. What on earth was "Hublandish"? Dr Rjinswand rubbed his forehead. What he could do with was a drink.
Ripples of paradox spread out across the sea of causality.
Possibly the most important point that Hublandish - so why could he understand every word?Let's see, they'd suddenly appeared in this dragon after, they'd materialised in this drag, they'd sudd, they'd, they'd - they had struck up a conversation in the airport so naturally they had chosen to sit together on the plane, and he'd promised