Leroy Neiman Resting Lion

Leroy Neiman Resting LionLeroy Neiman Hand Off Superbowl IIIJean-Honore Fragonard the readerJean-Honore Fragonard the lockJean-Honore Fragonard le jour
lot of civic dignitaries are going to be there, too,’ said Dibbler. ‘The Patrician and the nobles and the Guild heads and some of the high priests. Not the wizards, of course, the stuck‑up old idiots. But it’ll be a night to remember right enough.’
‘Will we have to be introduced to them all?’ said Victor.
‘No. They’ll about that,’ said Poons. ‘I’ve got out of carriages hundreds of times. There’s no trick to it at all.’
‘It’s a bit odd,’ the Chairman admitted. ‘And they cheered the head of the Assassins’ Guild and the High Priest of Blind Io, too. And now someone’s rolled out a red carpet.’
‘What, in the street? In Ankh‑Morpork?’
‘Yes.’be introduced to you,’ said Dibbler. ‘It’ll be the biggest thrill of their lives.’Victor stared out at the crowds again.‘Is it my imagination,’ he said, ‘or is it getting foggy?’ Poons hit the Chair across the back of the legs with his stick.‘What’s going on?’ he said. ‘Why’s everyone cheering?’‘The Patrician’s just got out of his carriage,’ said the Chair.‘Don’t see what’s so wonderful

Vincent van Gogh Wheatfield with a Lark

Vincent van Gogh Wheatfield with a LarkVincent van Gogh Vegetable Gardens in MontmartreVincent van Gogh Vegetable gardens at the MontmartreVincent van Gogh Still life with a bottle of lemons and orangesVincent van Gogh Self-Portrait with Straw
blinked. The glow faded from her eyes. She looked down, her expression of horror turning to astonishment and then, when she saw Gaspode leering up at her, back to a more mundane horror.
‘ ‘Allo,’ Sunnink dreadful in there, he thought. Prob’ly tentacled fings that rips your face off. I mean, when you finds mysterious doors in old hills, stands to reason wot comes out ain’t going to be pleased to see you. Evil creatures wot Man shouldn’t wot of, and here’s one dog wot don’t want to wot of them either. Why couldn’t she . . .
He grumbled on towards the town. Gaspode said, ingratiatingly. She backed away, bringing her hands up protectively. Sand dribbled between her fingers. Her eyes flickered towards it in bewilderment, and then back to Gaspode. ‘Gods, that’s horrible,’ she said. ‘What’s going on? Why am I here?’ Her hands flew to her mouth. ‘Oh no,’ she whispered, ‘not again!’ She stared at him for a moment, glared up at the doorway, then turned, hitched up her nightdress, and hurried back to town through the morning mists. Gaspode struggled after her, aware of anger in the air, desperately trying to put as much space as possible between the door and himself.

Jean Francois Millet The Angelus

Jean Francois Millet The AngelusJean Francois Millet AngelusJean Francois Millet Harvesters RestingJean Francois Millet GardenHerbert James Draper Ulysses and the Sirens
It wobbled,’ said the Dean .
. . .whumm . . . whumm . . .
The wizards stared at one another in sudden panic . . .
‘What’s happening? What’s happening?’ said Windle Poons. ‘Why won’t anyone, mm, tell me what’s happening?’
. . . whumm The second pellet knocked the tip off his hat.
The wizards lay trembling on the flagstones for several minutes. After a while the Dean’s muffled voice, ‘Was that all, do you think?’ . . . whumm . . . ‘Run!’ suggested the Dean. ‘Which way?’ quavered the Bursar. . . . whummWHUMM . . . ‘I’m an old man and I demand someone tell me what’s–’ Silence. ‘Duck!’ shouted the Archchancellor. Plib. A splinter of stone was knocked off the pillar behind him. He raised his head. ‘Bigods, that was a damn lucky es–’ Plib.

Unknown Artist James Wiens Birch Silhouette I

Unknown Artist James Wiens Birch Silhouette IPablo Picasso the dogUnknown Artist Still Life with Musical InstrumentsUnknown Artist Pieter Claesz Still LifeUnknown Artist Philadelphia Public Ledger
Poets long ago gave up trying to describe the city. Now the more cunning ones try to excuse it. They say, well, maybe it is smelly, maybe it is overcrowded, maybe it is a bit like Hell would be if they shut the fires off and stabled a herd of incontinent cows there for a year, but you must admit that it is full of sheer, vibrant, dynamic life. And flood, fire, hordes, revolutions and dragons. Sometimes by accident, admittedly, but it has survived them. The cheerful and irrecoverably venal spirit of the city has been proof against anything . . .
Until now.

Boom.
The explosion removed the windows, the door and most of the chimney. this is true, even though it is poets that are saying it. But people who aren’t poets say, so what? Mattresses tend to be full of life too, and no-one writes odes to them. Citizens hate living there and, if they have to move away on business or adventure or, more usually, until some statute of limitations runs out, can’t wait to get back so they can enjoy hating living there some more. They put stickers on the backs of their carts saying ‘Ankh-Morpork - Loathe It or Leave It’. They call it The Big Wahooni, after the fruit.[1so often a ruler of the city builds a wall around Ankh-Morpork, ostensibly to keep enemies out. But Ankh-Morpork doesn’t fear enemies. In fact it welcomes enemies, provided they are enemies with money to spend.It has survived

Paul Klee Villa R

Paul Klee Villa RPaul Klee The Golden FishPaul Klee Insula DulcamaraPaul Klee Fish MagicPaul Klee Around the Fish
'Yes. Just like the king. Now turn it off.'
'It's a pyramid! You can't turn off pyramids!' said IIb.
'Well, then, make it flare.'
'We tried that last night.' IIb pointed to the shattered capstone. 'Unroll Two-Ay, dad.'
Teppic regarded the flat brother.
'It's some sort of wall poster, is it?' he said eventually.
IIb looked down. Teppic saw the movement, and looked down also; he was ankle-deep in green sprouts.
'Sorry,' he said. 'I can't seem to shake it off.'
'It can be dreadful,' said IIb frantically. 'I know how it is, I had this verruca once, nothing would shift it.'
Teppic foil works just as well.'
'Couldn't you use something cheaper? Like steel?' Ptaclusp sneered. It hadn't been a good day, sanity was a distant memory, but there were certain facts he knew for a fact.
'Wouldn't last for more than a year or two,' he said. 'What with the dew and so forth. You'd lose the point. Wouldn't last more than two or three hundred times.'hunkered down by the cracked stone. 'This thing,' he said. 'What's the significance? I mean, it's coated with metal. Why?' 'There's got to be a sharp point for the flare,' said IIb. 'Is that all? This is gold, isn't it?' 'It's electrum. Gold and silver alloy. The capstone has got to be made of electrum.' Teppic peeled back the foil. 'This isn't all metal,' he said mildly. 'Yes. Well,' said Ptaclusp. 'We found, er, that
Teppic leaned his head against the pyramid. It was cold, and it

Henri Matisse Music

Henri Matisse MusicHenri Matisse Le bonheur de vivreGeorges Seurat The CircusGeorges Seurat Le ChahutWilliam Blake Nebuchadnezzar
'It does not admit of dispute,' said Dios. 'Who could wish for anything else? Sealed with all artifice against the desecrations of Time-' now the oiled silk of his voice became armour, hard as steel, scornful as spears - 'Shielded for all Time against the insults of Change.'
Teppic glanced down at the high priest's knuckles. They were white, the bone pressing through the flesh as though in a rage to escape.
His gaze king,' said Dios.
Teppic gave up.
'Oh,' he said. 'Good. Fine. Yes. The very best, of course.' Ptaclusp beamed with relief, produced his wax tablet with a flourish, and took a stylus from the recesses of his wig. The important thing, he knew, was to clinch the deal as soon as possible. Let things slip in a situation like this' and a man could find himself with 1,500,000 tons of bespoke limestone on his hands.slid up the grey-clad arm to Dios's face. Ye gods, he thought, it's really true, he does look like they got tired of waiting for him to die and pickled him anyway. Then his eyes met those of the priest, more or less with a clang. He felt as though his flesh was being very slowly blown off his bones. He felt that he was no more significant than a mayfly. A necessary mayfly, certainly, a mayfly that would be accorded all due respect, but still an insect with all the rights thereof. And as much free will, in the fury of that gaze, as a scrap of papyrus in a hurricane. 'The king's will is that he be interred in a pyramid,' said Dios, in the tone of voice the Creator must have used to sketch out the moon and stars. 'Er,' said Teppic. 'The finest of pyramids for the

Leroy Neiman Resting Tiger

Leroy Neiman Resting TigerLeroy Neiman Resting LionLeroy Neiman Hand Off Superbowl IIIJean-Honore Fragonard the readerJean-Honore Fragonard the lock
haunt their corridors,' he said, 'and whisper under the doors on still nights.' His voice grew fainter, almost lost in the ceaseless roar of the river. 'I shall make basket chairs creak most alarmingly, just you wait and see.'
Death Nanny Ogg.
'Ah,' said Granny. 'Yes, the crown. It's on his head, d'you see? We hid it among the crowns when the actors left, the reason being, no-one would look for it there. See how it fits him so perfectly.'
It was a tribute to Granny's extraordinary powers of persuasion that everyone grinned at him.NOW YOU'RE TALKING.It started to rain. Ramtop rain has a curiously penetrative quality which makes ordinary rain seem almost arid. It poured in torrents over the castle roofs, and somehow seemed to go right through the tiles and fill the Great Hall with a warm, was crowded with half the population of Lancre. Outside, the rushing of the rain even drowned out the distant roar of the river. It soaked the stage. The colours ran and mingled in the painted backdrop, and one of the curtains sagged away from its rail and flapped sadly into a puddle.Inside, Granny Weatherwax finished speaking.'You forgot about the crown,' whispered

William Beard Majestic Stag

William Beard Majestic StagWilliam Beard Dancing BearsAndy Warhol Shot Orange Marilyn 1964Andy Warhol Portrait of MauriceAndy Warhol Page from Lips Book
And then she recalled weeks that had flown past and afternoons that had lasted forever. Some minutes had lasted hours, some hours had gone past so quickly she hadn't been aware they'd gone past at all . . .
'But that's just it had occurred to her that destinies sounded easy enough when you talked about them but were never very bankable where real human beings were concerned. But Nanny Ogg sat back and tipped another generous measure of apple brandy in her tea.
'Could work out nice,' she said. 'A bit of peace and quiet for fifteen years. If I recall the spell, after you say it you have to fly around the castle before cock crow.'
'I wasn't thinking about that,' said Granny. 'It wouldn't be right. Felmet would still be king all that timepeople's perception,' she said. 'Isn't it?''Oh, yes,' said Granny, 'of course it is. It all is. What difference does that make?''A hundred years'd be over-egging it, mind,' said Nanny.'I reckon fifteen'd be a nice round number,' said Granny. 'That means the lad will be eighteen at the finish. We just do the spell, go and fetch him, he can manifest his destiny, and everything will be nice and neat.'Magrat didn't comment on this, because

Unknown Artist Wave Rider

Unknown Artist Wave RiderJohannes Vermeer Young Woman with a Water JugJohannes Vermeer The ProcuressJohannes Vermeer Diana and her CompanionsJohannes Vermeer Christ in the House of Mary and Martha
fancy,' said one of the guards, winking at the other. 'I reckon we can help you there.' They got up and stood either side of her; she was aware of two chins you could strike matches on and an overpowering smell of stale beer. Frantic signals from outlying portions of her mind began to break down her iron-hard conviction that bad things only The other guard nudged him. 'I reckon, then,' he said, in the slow, ripe tones of one who thinks that what he is about to say next is going to be incredibly funny, 'you kissed one years ago.'
The brief guffaw was suddenly interrupted when Magrat was flung against the wall and treated to a close up view of the guard's nostrils.
'Now listen to me, sweetheart,' he said. 'You ain't the first witch we've had down here, if witch you be, but happened to bad people.They escorted her down several flights of steps into a maze of dank, arched passageways as she sought hurriedly for some polite way of disengaging herself.'I should warn you,' she said, 'I am not, as I may appear, a simple apple seller.''Fancy that.''I am, in fact, a witch.'This did not make the impression she had hoped. The guards exchanged glances.'Fair enough,' said one. 'I've always wondered what it was like to kiss a witch. Around here they do say you gets turned into a frog.'

Unknown Artist Abstract Autumn by Dougall

Unknown Artist Abstract Autumn by DougallAndy Warhol Shot Blue Marilyn 1964Andy Warhol Pink CowAndy Warhol Ingrid with HatAndy Warhol Flowers 1964
elephants who carry on their shoulders the mass of the Discworld. A tiny sun and moon spin around them, on a complicated orbit to induce seasons, so probably nowhere else in the multiverse is it sometimes necessary for an elephant to cock a leg to allow the sun to go past.
Exactly whyLadders with greased rungs.
Magic glues the Discworld together – magic generated by the turning of the world itself, magic wound like silk out of the underlying structure of existence to suture the wounds of reality.
A lot of it ends up in the Ramtop Mountains, which stretch from the frozen lands near the Hub all the way, via a lengthy archipelago, to the warm seas which flow endlessly into space over the Rim. this should be may never be known. Possibly the Creator of the universe got bored with all the usual business of axial inclination, albedos and rotational velocities, and decided to have a bit of fun for once.It would be a pretty good bet that the gods of a world like this probably do not play chess and indeed this is the case. In fact no gods anywhere play chess. They haven't got the imagination. Gods prefer simple, vicious games, where you Do Not Achieve Transcendence but Go Straight To Oblivion; a key to the understanding of all religion is that a god's idea of amusement is Snakes and

Fabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires II

Fabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires IIPino WHITE SANDPino WHISPERING HEART
shall enjoy it,' she said firmly. She leaned forward and gave him a kiss as insubstantial as a mayfly's sigh, fading as she did so until only the kiss was left, just like a Cheshire cat only much more erotic.
'Have a care, Mort,' The glass itself was patterned with lotus petals. When Mort flicked it with his finger it went 'Ommm'.
He ran across the crackling snow to Binky and hurled himself into the saddle. The horse threw up his head, reared, and launched itself towards the stars.said her voice in his head. 'You may want to hold on to your job, but will you ever be able to let go?'Mort stood idiotically holding his cheek. The trees around the clearing trembled for a moment, there was the sound of laughter on the breeze, and then the freezing silence closed in again.Duty called out to him through the pink mists in his head. He grabbed the second glass and stared at it. The sand was nearly all gone.

John William Waterhouse Boreas

John William Waterhouse BoreasJohn William Waterhouse AriadneJohn William Waterhouse A Mermaid
Rather later than that a young man with a few superficial bruises on his head called in at one of the city's taverns and asked for directions to the nearest wizard.
And it was Eventually the door swung open, slowly and mysteriously.
'You'd fbetter pretend to be impreffed,' said the doorknocker conversationally, but hampered somewhat by the ring. 'He does it with pulleys and a bit of ftring. No good at opening-fpells, fee?'
Mort looked at the grinning metal face. I work for a skeleton who can walk through walls, he told himself. Who am I to be surprised at anything?
'Thank you,' he said.later still that Mort turned up outside a peeling plaster house which announced itself on a blackened brass plaque to be the abode of Igneous Cutwell, DM (Unseen), Marster of the Infinit, Illuminartus, Wyzard to Princes, Gardian of the Sacred Portalls, If Out leave Maile with Mrs Nugent Next Door.Suitably impressed despite his pounding heart, Mort lifted the heavy knocker, which was in the shape of a repulsive gargoyle with a heavy iron ring in its mouth, and knocked twice.There was a brief commotion from within, the series of hasty domestic sounds that might, in a less exalted house, have been made by, say, someone shovelling the lunch plates into the sink and tidying the laundry out of sight.

Edward Hopper Gas

Edward Hopper GasEdward Hopper Room in BrooklynEdward Hopper Ground Swell
Mort swallowed hard. 'Excuse me, sir, but my dad said, if I don't understand, I was to ask questions, sir?'
VERY COMMENDABLE, said Death. He set off down a side street, the crowds parting in front of him like random , not so much a thoroughfare as a meandering gap.
Death stopped by a decrepit water butt and plunged his arm in at full length, bringing out a small sack with a brick tied to it. He drew his sword, a line of flickering blue fire in the darkness, and sliced through the string.
I GET VERY ANGRY INDEED, he said. He upended the sack and Mort watched the pathetic scraps of sodden fur slide out, to lie in their spreading puddle on the cobbles. Death molecules.'Well, sir, I can't help noticing, the point is, well, the plain fact of it, sir, is —'OUT WITH IT, BOY.'How can you eat things, sir?'Death pulled up short, so that Mort walked into him. When the boy started to speak he waved him into silence. He appeared to be listening to something.THERE ARE TIMES, YOU KNOW, he said, half to himself, WHEN I GET REALLY UPSET.He turned on one heel and set off down an alleyway at high speed, his cloak flying out behind him. The alley wound between dark walls and sleeping buildings

Paris Eiffel Tower

Paris Eiffel TowerPaul Klee ZitronenPaul Klee Villa R
turning the corner into the main square in a screeching two-boot drift that left a long white scratch across the stones.
She was just in time to see Esk come running through the gates, in tears.
"The magic just wouldn't work! I could feel it there but it just wouldn't come out!"
"Perhaps "Toffee."
"Can't abide toffee."
"Huh," said Esk, "I suppose you want me to get peppermint next time?"
"Don't you sarky me, young-fellow-me-lass. Nothing wrong with peppermint. Pass me that bowlyou were trying too hard," said Grannyaround and splashing never caught any fish, you have to bide quiet and let it happen natural." "And then everyone laughed at me! Someone even gave me a sweet!" "You got some profit out of the day, then," said Granny. "Granny!" said Esk accusingly. "Well, what did you expect?" she asked. "At least they only laughed at you. Laughter don't hurt. You walked up to chief wizard and showed off in front of everyone and only got laughed at? You're doing well, you are. Have you eaten the sweet?" Esk scowled. "Yes." "What kind was it?"

Mary Cassatt Children Playing On The Beach

Mary Cassatt Children Playing On The BeachMary Cassatt Young Mother SewingEdward Hopper People In The Sun
looking at the nearpurple dome of the sky through the leaves and, eventually, she fell asleep.
One side-effect of using magic is that one tends to have realistic and disturbing dreams. There is a reason for this, but evendark is afraid of them.
Most people don't know this and this is just as well because the world could not really operate if everyone stayed in bed with the blankets over their head, which is what would happen if people knew what horrors lay a shadow's width away.
The problem is people interested in magic and mysticism spend a lot of time loitering on the very edge of the light, as it were, which gets them noticed by the creatures thinking about it is enough to give a wizard nightmares. The fact is that the minds of wizards can give thoughts a shape. Witches normally work with what actually exists in the world, but a wizard can, if he's good enough, put flesh on his imagination. This wouldn't cause any trouble if it wasn't for the fact that the little circle of candlelight loosely called "the universe of time and space" is adrift in something much more unpleasant and unpredictable. Strange Things circle and grunt outside the flimsy stockades of normality; there are weird hootings and howlings in the deep crevices at the edge of Time. There are things so horrible that even the

Gustav Klimt Goldfish (detail)

Gustav Klimt Goldfish (detail)Salvador Dali TigerSalvador Dali The Sacrament of the Last Supper
brought you into the world, you stupid man, and you've got no more sense in you now than you had then -"
"But -" Smith tried, dodging around the anvil.
"The magic's found her! Wizard magic! Wrong magic, do you understand? It was never intended for her!"
"Yes, but -"
"Have you any idea of what it can do?"
Smith sagged. "No."
Granny "Well, you can drink lots of cider and you just feel better and that's it, isn't it?"
The smith nodded again.
"But applejack, you drink that in little mugs and you don't drink a lot and you paused, and deflated a little. "No," she repeated, more softly. "No, you wouldn't." She sat down on the anvil and tried to think calm thoughts. "Look. Magic. That doesn't matter, because - anyway, you see, wizard magic -" she looked up at his big, blank expression and tried again. "Well, you know cider?" Smith nodded. He felt he was on firmer ground here, but he wasn't certain of where it was going to lead. "And then there's the ticker. Applejack," said the witch. The smith nodded. Everyone in Bad Ass made applejack in the winter, by leaving cider tubs outside overnight and taking out the ice until a tiny core of alcohol was left.

Thomas Kinkade St. Nicholas Circle

Thomas Kinkade St. Nicholas CircleThomas Kinkade Silent NightThomas Kinkade Julianne's cottageThomas Kinkade Heather's Hutch
There was a distant crash, and a lot of shouting.
'Looks like the gates have gone down,' said Rincewind.
'Let's get out of here,' said Bethan.
'The cellars are this way,' said Rincewind, and set off through an arch.
'Down Dungeon Dimensions you were telling us about, is it?' said Bethan.
They don't swear like that,' said Rincewind. 'Come on.'
They hurried along the dripping passages, following the screamed curses and deep hacking coughs that were somehow reassuring; anything that wheezed like that, the listeners decided, couldn't possibly represent a danger.
At last they came to a door set in an alcove. It looked strong enough to hold back the sea. There there!''Yes. Would you rather stay here?'He took a torch from its bracket on the wall and started down the steps.After a few flights the walls stopped being panelled and were bare stone. Here and there heavy doors had been propped open.'I heard something,' said Twoflower.Rincewind listened. There did seem to be a noise coming from the depths below. It didn't sound frightening. It sounded like a lot of people hammering on a door and shouting 'Oi!''It's not those Things from the

Henri Matisse Interior with Phonograph

Henri Matisse Interior with PhonographHenri Matisse Decorative Figure on an Ornamental BackgroundHenri Matisse Blue Still LifeGeorges Seurat The Island of La Grande Jatte
'Where is here, exactly?' said Twoflower, beckoning the Luggage and opening its lid.
Rincewind looked around. The hall was dark and deserted, its tall narrow windows whorled with ice. He looked down. There was the faint blue line stretching away from his ankle. Now he could see that Twoflower had one too.
'We're sort of informally dead,' he said. It was the best he could manage.
'Oh.' Twoflower continued to rummage.
'Doesn't that paper, as he had surmised, but by the far simpler method of imprisoning a small demon with a good eye for colour and a speedy hand with a paintbrush. He had been very upset to find that out.
'You haven't got time to take pictures!' he hissed.worry you?''Well, things tend to work out in the end, don't you think? Anyway, I'm a firm believer in reincarnation. What would you like to come back as?''I don't want to go,' said Rincewind firmly. 'Come on, let's get out of – oh, no. Not that.'Twoflower had produced a box from the depths of the Luggage. It was large and black and had a handle on one side and a little round window in front and a strap so that Twoflower could put it around his neck, which he did.There was a time when Rincewind had quite liked the iconoscope. He believed, against all experience, that the world was fundamentally understandable, and that if he could only equip himself with the right mental toolbox he could take the back off and see how it worked. He was, of course, dead wrong. The iconoscope didn't take pictures by letting light fall onto specially treated

Leroy Neiman Churchill Downs

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chieftain nodded, and said: 'Surely it is the sight of your enemy slain, the humiliation of his tribe and the lamentation of his women.'
There was a general murmur of whiskery approval at this outrageous display.
Then and hard and then said, with deliberation: 'Hot water, good dentishtry and shoft lavatory paper.'

Brilliant octarine light flared in the forge. Galder Weatherwax, stripped to the waist, his face hidden by a mask of smoked glass, squinted into the glow and brought a hammer down with surgical precision. The magic squealed and writhed in the tongs but still he worked it, drawing it into a line of agonised fire.
A floorboard creaked. Galder had spent many hours tuning them, always the chieftain turned respectfully to his guest, a small figure carefully warming his chilblains by the fire, and said: 'But our guest, whose name is legend, must tell us truly: what is it that a man may call the greatest things in life?'The guest paused in the middle of another unsuccessful attempt to light up.'What shay?' he said, toothlessly.'I said: what is it that a man may call the greatest things in life?'The warriors leaned closer. This should be worth hearing.The guest thought long

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
It's a net, isn't it? You've got a net right on the edge of the Sea!"
"The Circumfence," nodded the troll. Ripples radiating across his chest.
Rincewind looked out into the phosphorescent darkness that surrounded the island, and grinned inanely.
"Of Circumfence, the great effort that had been made to build it, and the ancient and wise Kingdom of Krull which had constructed it several centuries before, and the seven navies that patrolled it constantly to keep it in repair and bring its salvage back to Krull, and the manner in which Krull had become a land of leisure ruled by the most learned seekers after knowledge, and the way in which they sought constantly to understand in every possible particular the wondrous complexity of the universe, course," he said. "Amazing! You could sink piles and attach it to reefs and - good The net would have to be very strong.""It is," said Tethis."It could be extended for a couple of miles, if you found enough rocks and things," said the wizard."Ten thousands of miles. I just patrol this length.""That's a third of the way around the disc!"Tethis sloshed a little as he nodded again. While the two men helped themselves to some more of the green wine, he told them about the