Frida Kahlo Girl with Death MaskDouglas Hofmann midnight blueJose Royo PrimaveraPino Purity
woof, biscuit.'
Carrot automatically patted his pocket.
'See?' said Gaspode. 'This boy is Mister Simple, am I right?'
'Do they let dogs in dwarf shops?' said Angua.
'No,' said Carroteye.
He'd been writing in his notebook. Trying to make sense of it all. And then he'd gone to sleep.
What time was it? No time to look back.
He traced out:
Stolen from Afsafsins' Guild: gonne – Hammerhock killed.
Smell of fireworks. Lump of lead. Alchemical Symbols. 2nd body .'On a hook,' said Gaspode.'Really? Sounds good to me,' said Angua. 'Let's go.''Vegetarian?' mumbled Gaspode, limping after them. 'Oh, my.''Shut up.''Sorry?' said Carrot.'I was just thinking aloud.' Vimes' pillow was cold and hard. He felt it gingerly. It was cold and hard because it was not a pillow but a table. His cheek appeared to be stuck to it, and he was not interested in speculating what with.He hadn't even managed to take his armour off.But he did manage to unstick one
2009年4月28日星期二
2009年4月27日星期一
Edward Hopper New York Office
Edward Hopper New York OfficeEdward Hopper Morning in a CityEdward Hopper High NoonEdward Hopper Four Lane Road
office was the table where the elders of the Guild sat in weekly session. The other side of the room held Cruces' private library, and a small workbench. Above the bench was an apothecary cabinet, made up of hundreds of little drawers. The names on the drawer labels were in Assassins' code, but visitors from outside the Guild were generally sufficiently unnerved not to accept a drink.
Four pillars of black granite held up the ceiling. They had been carved with the names of noted Assassins from history. Cruces had his desk foursquare between them. He was standing behind it, his expression almost as wooden as the desk.
'I want a roll-call,' he snapped. 'Has anyone left the Guild?'biggest room in the building. It always seemed wrong to visitors that the Assassins' Guild had such light, airy, well-designed premises, more like the premises of a gentlemen's club than a building where death was plotted on a daily basis.Cheery sporting prints lined the walls, although the quarry was not, when you looked closely, stags or foxes. There were also group etchings – and, more recently, new-fangled iconographs – of the Guild, rows of smiling faces on black-clad bodies and the youngest members sitting cross-legged in front,Down one side of the room was the big mahogany
office was the table where the elders of the Guild sat in weekly session. The other side of the room held Cruces' private library, and a small workbench. Above the bench was an apothecary cabinet, made up of hundreds of little drawers. The names on the drawer labels were in Assassins' code, but visitors from outside the Guild were generally sufficiently unnerved not to accept a drink.
Four pillars of black granite held up the ceiling. They had been carved with the names of noted Assassins from history. Cruces had his desk foursquare between them. He was standing behind it, his expression almost as wooden as the desk.
'I want a roll-call,' he snapped. 'Has anyone left the Guild?'biggest room in the building. It always seemed wrong to visitors that the Assassins' Guild had such light, airy, well-designed premises, more like the premises of a gentlemen's club than a building where death was plotted on a daily basis.Cheery sporting prints lined the walls, although the quarry was not, when you looked closely, stags or foxes. There were also group etchings – and, more recently, new-fangled iconographs – of the Guild, rows of smiling faces on black-clad bodies and the youngest members sitting cross-legged in front,Down one side of the room was the big mahogany
2009年4月26日星期日
Pop art lazy afternoon
Pop art lazy afternoonPop art king elvis on redPop art kim gordon on bluePop art green on greenPop art chuck berry on pink
'Well here is another fine Turnup for the Books, for I have been made Corporal!! It means another Five Dollars a month plus stared out of the small dusty bedroom window at the early evening sunlight sidling across the river. Then he bent over the paper again.
'—which I do not Fulley understand but must have something to do with the dwarf Grabpot Thundergust's Cosmetic Factory. Also, Captain Vimes of who I have often written to you of is, leaving the Watch to get married and Become a Fine Gentleman also I have a new jerkin with, two stripes upon it as well. And a new copper badge! It is a Great responsibility!! This is all because we have got new recruits because the Patrician who, as I have formerly vouchsafed is the ruler of the city, has agreed the Watch must reflect the ethnic makeup of the City—' Carrot paused for a moment and
'Well here is another fine Turnup for the Books, for I have been made Corporal!! It means another Five Dollars a month plus stared out of the small dusty bedroom window at the early evening sunlight sidling across the river. Then he bent over the paper again.
'—which I do not Fulley understand but must have something to do with the dwarf Grabpot Thundergust's Cosmetic Factory. Also, Captain Vimes of who I have often written to you of is, leaving the Watch to get married and Become a Fine Gentleman also I have a new jerkin with, two stripes upon it as well. And a new copper badge! It is a Great responsibility!! This is all because we have got new recruits because the Patrician who, as I have formerly vouchsafed is the ruler of the city, has agreed the Watch must reflect the ethnic makeup of the City—' Carrot paused for a moment and
2009年4月24日星期五
Caravaggio St Jerome
Caravaggio St JeromeCaravaggio NarcissusCaravaggio Madonna di LoretoThomas Moran Grand Canyon
When I get off this horse,” said Magrat, “it’ll bolt. So can you ask your ... friend to let go of the bridle? He’ll be hurt.”
“Oook?”
“Um. Probably not.”
Magrat slid off. The horse, relieved of the presence of iron, bolted. For about two yards.
“Oook.”
The horse was struggling to get back on its feet.
Magrat blinked.
“Um, he’s Terry Pratchett
face was covered in mud, and there was a multicolored bruise over one eye.
“Did they do that to you?”
“Well, the mud and the torn clothes is just from, youjust a bit annoyed at the moment,” said Ponder. “One of the ... elves .. . shot him with an arrow.”“But they do that to control people!”“Um. He’s not a person.”“Oook!”“Genetically, I mean.”Magrat had met wizards before. Occasionally one visited Lancre, although they didn’t stay very long. There was some-thing about the presence of Granny Weatherwax that made them move on.They didn’t look like Ponder Stibbons. He’d lost most ofhis robe and, of his hat, only the brim remained. Most of his261
know, the forest. And we’ve run into—“
When I get off this horse,” said Magrat, “it’ll bolt. So can you ask your ... friend to let go of the bridle? He’ll be hurt.”
“Oook?”
“Um. Probably not.”
Magrat slid off. The horse, relieved of the presence of iron, bolted. For about two yards.
“Oook.”
The horse was struggling to get back on its feet.
Magrat blinked.
“Um, he’s Terry Pratchett
face was covered in mud, and there was a multicolored bruise over one eye.
“Did they do that to you?”
“Well, the mud and the torn clothes is just from, youjust a bit annoyed at the moment,” said Ponder. “One of the ... elves .. . shot him with an arrow.”“But they do that to control people!”“Um. He’s not a person.”“Oook!”“Genetically, I mean.”Magrat had met wizards before. Occasionally one visited Lancre, although they didn’t stay very long. There was some-thing about the presence of Granny Weatherwax that made them move on.They didn’t look like Ponder Stibbons. He’d lost most ofhis robe and, of his hat, only the brim remained. Most of his261
know, the forest. And we’ve run into—“
2009年4月23日星期四
Diego Rivera Motherhood Angelina and the Child Diego
Diego Rivera Motherhood Angelina and the Child DiegoLeroy Neiman Resting TigerLeroy Neiman Resting Lion
Pratchett
Nanny Ogg’s cat rubbed against her legs. His hair was flat against his body. This unnerved Magrat even more. This was Greebo, shoulder.
She must be somewhere near the kitchen now, because that was Greebo’s territory. This was an unknown and shad-owy area, terror incognita, where the flesh of carpets and the plaster pillars ran out and the stone bone of the castle showed through.
She was sure there were footsteps behind her, very fast and light.
If she hurried around the next comer—
In her arms, Greebo tensed like a spring. Magrat stopped.
Around the next comer—
Without her apparently willing it, the hand holding the broken wood came up, moving slowly back.undisputed king of Lancre’s cat population and father of most of it, in whose presence wolves trod softly and bears climbed trees. He was frightened.“Come here, you bloody idiot!”She grabbed him by the scruff of his scarred neck and ran on, while Greebo gratefully sank his claws into her arm to the bone and scrambled up to her
Pratchett
Nanny Ogg’s cat rubbed against her legs. His hair was flat against his body. This unnerved Magrat even more. This was Greebo, shoulder.
She must be somewhere near the kitchen now, because that was Greebo’s territory. This was an unknown and shad-owy area, terror incognita, where the flesh of carpets and the plaster pillars ran out and the stone bone of the castle showed through.
She was sure there were footsteps behind her, very fast and light.
If she hurried around the next comer—
In her arms, Greebo tensed like a spring. Magrat stopped.
Around the next comer—
Without her apparently willing it, the hand holding the broken wood came up, moving slowly back.undisputed king of Lancre’s cat population and father of most of it, in whose presence wolves trod softly and bears climbed trees. He was frightened.“Come here, you bloody idiot!”She grabbed him by the scruff of his scarred neck and ran on, while Greebo gratefully sank his claws into her arm to the bone and scrambled up to her
2009年4月21日星期二
Albert Bierstadt Valley of the Yosemite
Albert Bierstadt Valley of the YosemiteAlbert Bierstadt the oregon trailSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema Caracalla and Geta
Happen often, does it?” said Casanunda.
“Not so much these days,” said Ridcully. “It’s like—what’s that word, Stibbons? About breedin’ and passin’ on stuff to yer kids?”
“Evolution,” said Ponder. The ripples were still sloshing against the banks.
“Right. Like, my father had a waistcoat with embroi-
dered peacocks on it, and he left it to me, and now I’ve got
it. They call Ridcully He turned, and leaned back on his elbows. “This really takes me back, you know. The old Lancre River. There’s trout down there that’d take your arm off.”
“Not just trout,” said Ponder, watching a helmet emerge from the water.
“And limpid pools further up,” said Ridcully. “Full of, of, of ... limpids, stuff like that. And you can bathe naked and no one’d see. And water meadows full of ... water, don’tyerknow, and flowers and stuff.” He sighed.
“You know, it was on this very bridge that she told meit hereditarery—““No, that’s not—“ Ponder began, with no hope whatso-ever that Ridcully would listen.“—so anyway, most people left back home know the differ-ence between apes and monkeys now,” said Ridcully. “Evolution, that is. It’s hard to breed when you’ve got a headache from being bounced up and down on the pavement.”158LOR08 ft/YO LftQfEQThe ripples had stopped now.“Do you think trolls can swim?” said Casanunda.“No. They just sink and walk ashore,” said
Happen often, does it?” said Casanunda.
“Not so much these days,” said Ridcully. “It’s like—what’s that word, Stibbons? About breedin’ and passin’ on stuff to yer kids?”
“Evolution,” said Ponder. The ripples were still sloshing against the banks.
“Right. Like, my father had a waistcoat with embroi-
dered peacocks on it, and he left it to me, and now I’ve got
it. They call Ridcully He turned, and leaned back on his elbows. “This really takes me back, you know. The old Lancre River. There’s trout down there that’d take your arm off.”
“Not just trout,” said Ponder, watching a helmet emerge from the water.
“And limpid pools further up,” said Ridcully. “Full of, of, of ... limpids, stuff like that. And you can bathe naked and no one’d see. And water meadows full of ... water, don’tyerknow, and flowers and stuff.” He sighed.
“You know, it was on this very bridge that she told meit hereditarery—““No, that’s not—“ Ponder began, with no hope whatso-ever that Ridcully would listen.“—so anyway, most people left back home know the differ-ence between apes and monkeys now,” said Ridcully. “Evolution, that is. It’s hard to breed when you’ve got a headache from being bounced up and down on the pavement.”158LOR08 ft/YO LftQfEQThe ripples had stopped now.“Do you think trolls can swim?” said Casanunda.“No. They just sink and walk ashore,” said
2009年4月20日星期一
Salvador Dali My Wife,Nude
Salvador Dali My Wife,NudeSalvador Dali Meditation on the HarpSalvador Dali Galatea of the SpheresSalvador Dali Galarina
we was to turn the table over, we could probably hide behind it, no problem.”
But to herself she was thinking: Esme can never resist a challenge. None of us can. You ain’t a witch if you ain’t got self-confidence. But we’re not getting any younger. It’s like being a hired swordfighter, being a top witch. You think you’re good, but you know there’s got to be someone younger, practicing every day, polishing up their craft, and one day you’re walkin’ down the road and you hears this voice behind you sayin’: go for your toad, or similar.“I ‘spect you’d know all about witchcraft,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“I’m studying, yes,” said Diamanda.
Nanny Ogg realized that she had removed her own hat and was biting nervously at the brim.
“I ‘spect you’re really good at it,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“Quite good,” said Diamanda.Even for Esme. Sooner or later, she’ll come up against someone faster on the craftiness than she is.“Oh, yes,” said Granny, quietly “Just starting. Every day, just starting.”Nanny Ogg thought: but it won’t be today.“You stupid old woman,” said Diamanda, “you don’t frighten me. Oh, yes. I know all about the way you old ones frighten superstitious peasants, actually. Muttering and squinting. It’s all in the mind. Simple psychology. It’s not real witchcraft.”“I’ll, er, I’ll just go into the scullery and, er, see if I can fill any buckets with water, shall I?” said Nanny Ogg, to no one in particular.
we was to turn the table over, we could probably hide behind it, no problem.”
But to herself she was thinking: Esme can never resist a challenge. None of us can. You ain’t a witch if you ain’t got self-confidence. But we’re not getting any younger. It’s like being a hired swordfighter, being a top witch. You think you’re good, but you know there’s got to be someone younger, practicing every day, polishing up their craft, and one day you’re walkin’ down the road and you hears this voice behind you sayin’: go for your toad, or similar.“I ‘spect you’d know all about witchcraft,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“I’m studying, yes,” said Diamanda.
Nanny Ogg realized that she had removed her own hat and was biting nervously at the brim.
“I ‘spect you’re really good at it,” said Granny Weatherwax.
“Quite good,” said Diamanda.Even for Esme. Sooner or later, she’ll come up against someone faster on the craftiness than she is.“Oh, yes,” said Granny, quietly “Just starting. Every day, just starting.”Nanny Ogg thought: but it won’t be today.“You stupid old woman,” said Diamanda, “you don’t frighten me. Oh, yes. I know all about the way you old ones frighten superstitious peasants, actually. Muttering and squinting. It’s all in the mind. Simple psychology. It’s not real witchcraft.”“I’ll, er, I’ll just go into the scullery and, er, see if I can fill any buckets with water, shall I?” said Nanny Ogg, to no one in particular.
2009年4月17日星期五
Mark Spain Pure Elegance
Mark Spain Pure EleganceMark Spain Only YouMark Spain Night Light
rushy valley where, on a slight rise in the ground, are the stones.
They’re aboutstands absentmindedly adjusting the flowers twined in her hair. It’s been that kind of afternoon.
She knows about the stones. No one ever gets told about the stones. And no one is ever told not to go there, because those who refrain from talking about the stones also know how powerful is the attraction of prohibition. It’s just that going to the stones is not. . . what we do. Especially if we’re nice girls. man-height, and barely thicker than a fat man.And somehow they don’t seem worth it. If there’s a stone circle you mustn’t go near, the imagination suggests, then there should be big brooding trilithons and ancient altar stones screaming with the dark memory of blood-soaked sacrifice. Not these dull stubby lumps.It will turn out that she was running a bit too fast thistime, and in fact the young man in laughing pursuit will getlost and fed up and will eventually wander off back to thetown alone. She does not, at this point, know this, but2(.OR06 ftffO ifi0/£6
rushy valley where, on a slight rise in the ground, are the stones.
They’re aboutstands absentmindedly adjusting the flowers twined in her hair. It’s been that kind of afternoon.
She knows about the stones. No one ever gets told about the stones. And no one is ever told not to go there, because those who refrain from talking about the stones also know how powerful is the attraction of prohibition. It’s just that going to the stones is not. . . what we do. Especially if we’re nice girls. man-height, and barely thicker than a fat man.And somehow they don’t seem worth it. If there’s a stone circle you mustn’t go near, the imagination suggests, then there should be big brooding trilithons and ancient altar stones screaming with the dark memory of blood-soaked sacrifice. Not these dull stubby lumps.It will turn out that she was running a bit too fast thistime, and in fact the young man in laughing pursuit will getlost and fed up and will eventually wander off back to thetown alone. She does not, at this point, know this, but2(.OR06 ftffO ifi0/£6
2009年4月16日星期四
Frida Kahlo Thinking about Death
Frida Kahlo Thinking about DeathFrida Kahlo The Suicide of Dorothy HaleFrida Kahlo Sun and Life
he's declared a month of Jhaddra, and double penances, and the Council has given him the Staff and the Halter, and the Cenobiarch has gone off to the hermitage in Skant!"
"Vorbis is the Brutha stared at the wall.
"And he left orders that you were to be brought to him as soon as you were fully conscious," said Nhumrod. "He was very definite about that." His tone of voice suggested that he wasn't quite sure of Brutha's state of consciousness, even now. "Do you think you can walk? I can get some novices to carry you, if you'd prefer."eighth Prophet," said Brutha."-Prophet. Of course.""And . . . was there a tortoise? Has he mentioned anything about a tortoise?""-tortoise? What have tortoises got to do with anything?" Nhumrod's expression softened. "But, of course, the Prophet said the sun had affected you. He said you were raving-excuse me-about all sorts of strange things.""He did?""He sat by your bed for three days. It was . . . inspiring.""How long . . . since we came back?""-back? Almost a week.""A week!""He said the journey exhausted you very much."
he's declared a month of Jhaddra, and double penances, and the Council has given him the Staff and the Halter, and the Cenobiarch has gone off to the hermitage in Skant!"
"Vorbis is the Brutha stared at the wall.
"And he left orders that you were to be brought to him as soon as you were fully conscious," said Nhumrod. "He was very definite about that." His tone of voice suggested that he wasn't quite sure of Brutha's state of consciousness, even now. "Do you think you can walk? I can get some novices to carry you, if you'd prefer."eighth Prophet," said Brutha."-Prophet. Of course.""And . . . was there a tortoise? Has he mentioned anything about a tortoise?""-tortoise? What have tortoises got to do with anything?" Nhumrod's expression softened. "But, of course, the Prophet said the sun had affected you. He said you were raving-excuse me-about all sorts of strange things.""He did?""He sat by your bed for three days. It was . . . inspiring.""How long . . . since we came back?""-back? Almost a week.""A week!""He said the journey exhausted you very much."
2009年4月15日星期三
Caravaggio Adoration of the Shepherds
Caravaggio Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Samson and DelilahAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the ShepherdsAndrea Mantegna Adoration of the Magi
In the middle of the night Om awoke. There were noises from Brutha's bed.
Brutha was praying again.
Om listened curiously. He could remember prayers. There had been a lot of them, once. So many that he couldn't make out an individual prayer even if he had felt inclined to, but that didn't matter, because what mattered was the huge cosmic susurration of thousands of praying, believing minds. The words weren't worth listening to, anyway.
Humans! Theyhardly smite anyone with one of those. He had smitten good and hard in his time. Now he could just about walk through water and feed the One.
Brutha's prayer was a piccolo tune in a world of silence.
Om waited until the novice was quiet again and then unfolded his legs and walked out, rocking from side to side, into the dawn.
lived in a world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water! A mere quantum-mechanistic tunnel effect, that'd happen anyway if you were prepared to wait zillions of years. As if the turning of sunlight into wine, by means of vines and grapes and time and enzymes, wasn't a thousand times more impressive and happened all the time . . .Well, he couldn't even do the most basic of god tricks now. Thunderbolts with about the same effect as the spark off a cat's fur, and you could
The Ephebians walked through the palace courtyards, surrounding the Omnians
In the middle of the night Om awoke. There were noises from Brutha's bed.
Brutha was praying again.
Om listened curiously. He could remember prayers. There had been a lot of them, once. So many that he couldn't make out an individual prayer even if he had felt inclined to, but that didn't matter, because what mattered was the huge cosmic susurration of thousands of praying, believing minds. The words weren't worth listening to, anyway.
Humans! Theyhardly smite anyone with one of those. He had smitten good and hard in his time. Now he could just about walk through water and feed the One.
Brutha's prayer was a piccolo tune in a world of silence.
Om waited until the novice was quiet again and then unfolded his legs and walked out, rocking from side to side, into the dawn.
lived in a world where the grass continued to be green and the sun rose every day and flowers regularly turned into fruit, and what impressed them? Weeping statues. And wine made out of water! A mere quantum-mechanistic tunnel effect, that'd happen anyway if you were prepared to wait zillions of years. As if the turning of sunlight into wine, by means of vines and grapes and time and enzymes, wasn't a thousand times more impressive and happened all the time . . .Well, he couldn't even do the most basic of god tricks now. Thunderbolts with about the same effect as the spark off a cat's fur, and you could
The Ephebians walked through the palace courtyards, surrounding the Omnians
2009年4月13日星期一
Paul Klee Zitronen
Paul Klee ZitronenPaul Klee Villa RPaul Klee The Golden FishPaul Klee Insula Dulcamara
glance.
Om sagged, catching his breath. And then brightened up.
Someone up there likes me, he thought. And it's Me.
where it could be seen.
One day. In front of the Temple. Otherwise no one would believe.
Om stumped along a sandy corridor.
He'd hung around a while after Brutha's disappearance. Hanging around is another thing tortoises are very good at. They're practically world champions.
Bloody useless boy, he thought. Served himself right for trying to talk to a barely coherent noviceSergeant Simony waited until he was back in his own quarters before he unfolded his own scrap of paper.He was not at all surprised to find it marked with a small drawing of a turtle. He was the lucky one.He'd lived for a moment like this. Someone had to bring back the writer of the Truth, to be a symbol for the movement. It had to be him. The only shame was that he couldn't kill Vorbis.But that had to happen
glance.
Om sagged, catching his breath. And then brightened up.
Someone up there likes me, he thought. And it's Me.
where it could be seen.
One day. In front of the Temple. Otherwise no one would believe.
Om stumped along a sandy corridor.
He'd hung around a while after Brutha's disappearance. Hanging around is another thing tortoises are very good at. They're practically world champions.
Bloody useless boy, he thought. Served himself right for trying to talk to a barely coherent noviceSergeant Simony waited until he was back in his own quarters before he unfolded his own scrap of paper.He was not at all surprised to find it marked with a small drawing of a turtle. He was the lucky one.He'd lived for a moment like this. Someone had to bring back the writer of the Truth, to be a symbol for the movement. It had to be him. The only shame was that he couldn't kill Vorbis.But that had to happen
Paul Gauguin The Yellow Christ
Paul Gauguin The Yellow ChristPaul Gauguin The Vision After the SermonPaul Gauguin Spirit of the Dead Watching
Librarian gazed at him for some time, then dropped his eyes to the boy's hand. Coin gave a guilty start, and opened his fingers.
The ape caught the little silver ball neatly before it hit the ground and held it up to one eye. He sniffed it, shook it gently, and listened to it for a while.
Then he wound up his arm and flung it away as hard as possible.
'What-’ .
'Yes,' said Conina.
'No,' said Nijel.
He was trembling with rage, or possibly with cold, and was nearly as pale as the glaciers that rumbled past below them.Coin began, and landed full length in the snow when the Librarian pushed him over and dived on top of him.The ball curved over at the top of its arc and tumbled down, its perfect path interrupted suddenly by the ground. There was a sound like a harp string breaking, a brief babble of incomprehensible voices, a rush of hot wind, and the gods of the Disc were free.They were very angry. 'There is nothing we can do, is there?' said Creosote.'No,' said Conina.'The ice is going to win, isn't it?' said Creosote
Librarian gazed at him for some time, then dropped his eyes to the boy's hand. Coin gave a guilty start, and opened his fingers.
The ape caught the little silver ball neatly before it hit the ground and held it up to one eye. He sniffed it, shook it gently, and listened to it for a while.
Then he wound up his arm and flung it away as hard as possible.
'What-’ .
'Yes,' said Conina.
'No,' said Nijel.
He was trembling with rage, or possibly with cold, and was nearly as pale as the glaciers that rumbled past below them.Coin began, and landed full length in the snow when the Librarian pushed him over and dived on top of him.The ball curved over at the top of its arc and tumbled down, its perfect path interrupted suddenly by the ground. There was a sound like a harp string breaking, a brief babble of incomprehensible voices, a rush of hot wind, and the gods of the Disc were free.They were very angry. 'There is nothing we can do, is there?' said Creosote.'No,' said Conina.'The ice is going to win, isn't it?' said Creosote
2009年4月10日星期五
Paul Klee Park bei Luzern
Paul Klee Park bei LuzernPaul Klee On a Motif from HamametPaul Klee Heroic Roses
could do with a drink,' said Creosote. 'I suppose we couldn't stop somewhere where I could buy an inn?'
'What with?' said Nijel. 'You're poor, remember?'
'Poor I don't mind,' said the Seriph. 'It's sobriety that is giving me difficulties.'
Conina prodded Rincewind gently in the ribs.
'Are you steering this thing?' she said.
No.'
'Then where is it going?'
Nijel peered downwards.
'By the look of it,' he said, 'it's going hubwards. Towards the Circle Sea.'
'Someone must be guiding it.'
Hallo, said aYou could destroy the sourcerer. All this would collapse then.
I wouldn't stand a chance.
Then at least you could die in the attempt. That might be preferable to letting magical war break out.
'Look, just shut up, will you?' said Rincewind friendly voice in Rincewind's head.You’re not my conscience again, are you? thought Rincewind.I'm feeling really bad.Well, I'm sorry, Rincewind thought, but none of this is my fault. I'm just a victim of circuses. I don't see why I should take the blame.Yes, but you could do something about it.Like what?
could do with a drink,' said Creosote. 'I suppose we couldn't stop somewhere where I could buy an inn?'
'What with?' said Nijel. 'You're poor, remember?'
'Poor I don't mind,' said the Seriph. 'It's sobriety that is giving me difficulties.'
Conina prodded Rincewind gently in the ribs.
'Are you steering this thing?' she said.
No.'
'Then where is it going?'
Nijel peered downwards.
'By the look of it,' he said, 'it's going hubwards. Towards the Circle Sea.'
'Someone must be guiding it.'
Hallo, said aYou could destroy the sourcerer. All this would collapse then.
I wouldn't stand a chance.
Then at least you could die in the attempt. That might be preferable to letting magical war break out.
'Look, just shut up, will you?' said Rincewind friendly voice in Rincewind's head.You’re not my conscience again, are you? thought Rincewind.I'm feeling really bad.Well, I'm sorry, Rincewind thought, but none of this is my fault. I'm just a victim of circuses. I don't see why I should take the blame.Yes, but you could do something about it.Like what?
2009年4月9日星期四
Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club Bar
Leroy Neiman Chicago Key Club BarLeroy Neiman Chicago Board of TradeLeroy Neiman Casino
'Oook?'
It was the faintest of noises, like the eructation of cockroaches.
Suddenly emboldened, Spelter pressed his lips closer to the crack.
'Have you got the, um, Patrician in there?'
'Oook.'
'What about the little doggie?'
'Oook.'
'Oh. Good.'
Spelter lay full length in the comfort of the night, and drummed his fingers on the chilly floor.
'You wouldn't care to, um, let me in too?' he ventured.
'Oook!'would you, um, let me come in for a few minutes? We need to discuss something urgently, man to man.''Eeek.''I meant ape.''Oook.''Look, won't you come out, then?''Oook.'Spelter sighed. 'This show of loyalty is all very well, but you'll starve in there.''Oook oook.''What other way in?''Oook.''Oh, have it your way,' Spelter sighed. But, somehow, he felt better for the conversation. Everyone else in the University seemed to be living in a dream, whereas the Librarian wanted nothing more in the whole world than soft fruit, a regular supply of index cards and the opportunity
Spelter made a face in the gloom.
'Well, , every month or so, to hop over the wall of the Patrician's private menagerie.[13] It was strangely reassuring.
'So you're all right for bananas and so forth?' he inquired, after another pause.
'Oook?'
It was the faintest of noises, like the eructation of cockroaches.
Suddenly emboldened, Spelter pressed his lips closer to the crack.
'Have you got the, um, Patrician in there?'
'Oook.'
'What about the little doggie?'
'Oook.'
'Oh. Good.'
Spelter lay full length in the comfort of the night, and drummed his fingers on the chilly floor.
'You wouldn't care to, um, let me in too?' he ventured.
'Oook!'would you, um, let me come in for a few minutes? We need to discuss something urgently, man to man.''Eeek.''I meant ape.''Oook.''Look, won't you come out, then?''Oook.'Spelter sighed. 'This show of loyalty is all very well, but you'll starve in there.''Oook oook.''What other way in?''Oook.''Oh, have it your way,' Spelter sighed. But, somehow, he felt better for the conversation. Everyone else in the University seemed to be living in a dream, whereas the Librarian wanted nothing more in the whole world than soft fruit, a regular supply of index cards and the opportunity
Spelter made a face in the gloom.
'Well, , every month or so, to hop over the wall of the Patrician's private menagerie.[13] It was strangely reassuring.
'So you're all right for bananas and so forth?' he inquired, after another pause.
2009年4月8日星期三
Arthur Hughes April Love
Arthur Hughes April LoveAlbert Bierstadt The Buffalo TrailAlbert Bierstadt The Shore of the Turquoise Sea
was three. It would appear...'
He looked into the mirror, and turned round.
He started to room. The air was full of greasy coils. Little particles of soot drifted gently on the air currents, and there were several foot-shaped burn marks on the floor.
The figure shrugged. There was no accounting for the sort of things you found in wizard's rooms. It caught sight of its multifaceted reflection in the shattered mirror, adjusted the set of its hood, and got on with the search.
Moving like one listening to inner directions, it padded noiselessly say, 'Who are y-’And found that there are things worse than making speeches, after all. The small dark figure creeping along the deserted corridors heard the noise, and didn't take too much notice. Unpleasant noises were not uncommon in areas where magic was commonly practised. The figure was looking for something. It wasn't sure what it was, only that it would know it when it found, it.After some minutes its search led it to Wayzygoose's
was three. It would appear...'
He looked into the mirror, and turned round.
He started to room. The air was full of greasy coils. Little particles of soot drifted gently on the air currents, and there were several foot-shaped burn marks on the floor.
The figure shrugged. There was no accounting for the sort of things you found in wizard's rooms. It caught sight of its multifaceted reflection in the shattered mirror, adjusted the set of its hood, and got on with the search.
Moving like one listening to inner directions, it padded noiselessly say, 'Who are y-’And found that there are things worse than making speeches, after all. The small dark figure creeping along the deserted corridors heard the noise, and didn't take too much notice. Unpleasant noises were not uncommon in areas where magic was commonly practised. The figure was looking for something. It wasn't sure what it was, only that it would know it when it found, it.After some minutes its search led it to Wayzygoose's
2009年4月6日星期一
Edvard Munch Girls on a Bridge
Edvard Munch Girls on a BridgeUnknown Artist Brent Heighton After the RainAlbert Moore silver
, we’ll never get them out,’ said Arthur. ‘Not like that. Can’t you wake them up?’
‘word on ‘em to start ‘em up.’
‘What, like “security”?’
‘Could be.’
Windle peered at the Dean. ‘No,’ he said at last, ‘no-one’s got that much clay.’ He looked around them. ‘We ought to find out where that blasted music’s coming from.’
‘Where the musicians are hidden, you mean?’
‘I don’t think there are musicians.’
‘You’ve got to have musicians, brother,’ said Reg. ‘That’s why it’s called music.’
‘Firstly, this isn’t like any music I’ve ever heard, and Light a feather under their nose,’ Doreen volunteered.‘I don’t think that will work, ‘ said Windle. He based the statement on the nearly under their noses, and anyone whose nasal equipment failed to register Mr Shoe would certainly not react to a mere burning feather. Or a heavy weight dropped from a great height, if it came to that. ‘Mr Poons,’ said Ludmilla.‘I used to know a golem looked like him,’ said Reg Shoe. ‘Just like him. Great big chap, made out of clay. That’s what your typical golem basically is. You just have to write a special holy
, we’ll never get them out,’ said Arthur. ‘Not like that. Can’t you wake them up?’
‘word on ‘em to start ‘em up.’
‘What, like “security”?’
‘Could be.’
Windle peered at the Dean. ‘No,’ he said at last, ‘no-one’s got that much clay.’ He looked around them. ‘We ought to find out where that blasted music’s coming from.’
‘Where the musicians are hidden, you mean?’
‘I don’t think there are musicians.’
‘You’ve got to have musicians, brother,’ said Reg. ‘That’s why it’s called music.’
‘Firstly, this isn’t like any music I’ve ever heard, and Light a feather under their nose,’ Doreen volunteered.‘I don’t think that will work, ‘ said Windle. He based the statement on the nearly under their noses, and anyone whose nasal equipment failed to register Mr Shoe would certainly not react to a mere burning feather. Or a heavy weight dropped from a great height, if it came to that. ‘Mr Poons,’ said Ludmilla.‘I used to know a golem looked like him,’ said Reg Shoe. ‘Just like him. Great big chap, made out of clay. That’s what your typical golem basically is. You just have to write a special holy
2009年4月2日星期四
Caravaggio St Jerome
Caravaggio St JeromeCaravaggio NarcissusCaravaggio Madonna di Loreto
There was another shrug that almost vocalised the thought: why not?
What else have I got to do?
If someone had told me a month ago, Windle thought, that a few days after I died I’d be walking along the road followed by a bashful bogeyman hiding behind a door and accompanied by a kind of negative version of a as the first proto-rat, it was also less than a day old and still feeling its way as a Death, and it was possibly aware that a deep, thumping noise that was making the building shake was the sound of brandy starting to boil in its barrels.
The thing about boiling brandy is that it doesn’t boil for long.
The fireball dropped bits of the inn half a mile away. White-hot flames werewolf . . . why, I probably would have laughed at them. After they’d repeated themselves a few times, of course. In a loud voice. The Death of Rats ?rabhnded? up the last of his clients, many of whom had been in the thatch, and led the way through the flames towards wherever it was that good rats went. He was surprised to pass a burning figure forcing its way through the incandescent mess of collapsed beams and crumbling floorboards. As it mounted the blazing stairs it removed something from the disintegrating remains of its clothing and held it carefully in its teeth. The Death of Rats did not wait to see what happened next. While it was, in some respects, as ancient
There was another shrug that almost vocalised the thought: why not?
What else have I got to do?
If someone had told me a month ago, Windle thought, that a few days after I died I’d be walking along the road followed by a bashful bogeyman hiding behind a door and accompanied by a kind of negative version of a as the first proto-rat, it was also less than a day old and still feeling its way as a Death, and it was possibly aware that a deep, thumping noise that was making the building shake was the sound of brandy starting to boil in its barrels.
The thing about boiling brandy is that it doesn’t boil for long.
The fireball dropped bits of the inn half a mile away. White-hot flames werewolf . . . why, I probably would have laughed at them. After they’d repeated themselves a few times, of course. In a loud voice. The Death of Rats ?rabhnded? up the last of his clients, many of whom had been in the thatch, and led the way through the flames towards wherever it was that good rats went. He was surprised to pass a burning figure forcing its way through the incandescent mess of collapsed beams and crumbling floorboards. As it mounted the blazing stairs it removed something from the disintegrating remains of its clothing and held it carefully in its teeth. The Death of Rats did not wait to see what happened next. While it was, in some respects, as ancient
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Necklace
Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with NecklaceFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with MonkeysFrida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940
talking and I’m definitely in big trouble on account of being very
deficient in the trousery vicinity. So I have to keep a pair stashed
somewhere. Mr Shoe -‘
‘- call me Reg -‘
‘- lets me keep a pair where he works.’
‘I work at the mortuary on Elm Street,’ said Mr Shoe.’I’m not ashamed. It’s worth it to save a brother or sister.’
‘Sorry?Doreen.
‘Excuse me,’ said Windle, ‘I couldn’t help wondering . . . are you two . . . er . . . vampires, by any chance?’
“S’right,’ said Arthur.’More’s the pity.’
‘Hah! You should not valk like zat,’ said Doreen haughtily. ‘You should be prout of your noble lineage.’
‘Prout?’ said Arthur.’ said Windle.’Save?’‘It’s me that pins the card on the bottom of the lid,’ said Mr Shoe. ‘You never know. It has to be worth a try.’‘Does it often work?’ said Windle. He looked around the room. His tone must have suggested that it was a reasonably large room, and had only eight people in it; nine if you included the voice from under the chair, which presumably belonged to a person.Doreen and Arthur exchanged glances.‘It vorked for Artore, ‘ said
talking and I’m definitely in big trouble on account of being very
deficient in the trousery vicinity. So I have to keep a pair stashed
somewhere. Mr Shoe -‘
‘- call me Reg -‘
‘- lets me keep a pair where he works.’
‘I work at the mortuary on Elm Street,’ said Mr Shoe.’I’m not ashamed. It’s worth it to save a brother or sister.’
‘Sorry?Doreen.
‘Excuse me,’ said Windle, ‘I couldn’t help wondering . . . are you two . . . er . . . vampires, by any chance?’
“S’right,’ said Arthur.’More’s the pity.’
‘Hah! You should not valk like zat,’ said Doreen haughtily. ‘You should be prout of your noble lineage.’
‘Prout?’ said Arthur.’ said Windle.’Save?’‘It’s me that pins the card on the bottom of the lid,’ said Mr Shoe. ‘You never know. It has to be worth a try.’‘Does it often work?’ said Windle. He looked around the room. His tone must have suggested that it was a reasonably large room, and had only eight people in it; nine if you included the voice from under the chair, which presumably belonged to a person.Doreen and Arthur exchanged glances.‘It vorked for Artore, ‘ said
2009年4月1日星期三
Franz Marc Drei Katzen
Franz Marc Drei KatzenFranz Marc Dog Lying in the SnowFranz Marc Die kleinen gelben PferdeFranz Marc Deer in the Woods IIFranz Marc Blaues Pferd 1
Hmm, ‘ he said.
Alone of all the creatures in the world, trolls believe that all living things go through Time backwards. If the past is visible and the future is hidden, they say, then it means you must be facing the wrong way. Everything alive is going through life back to front. And this is a very interesting idea. considering it was invented by a race who spend most of their time hitting one another on the head with rocks.
trembling with mad cheerfulness.’Don’t worry. I’m quite looking forward to it, to tell the truth.’
He clapped his spiritual hands and rubbed them together with forced enthusiasm.
‘Get a move on. Some of us have got new lives to go to,’ he said. The darkness remained Whichever way around it is, Time is something that living creatures possess.Death galloped down through towering black clouds.And now he had Time, too.The time of his life.Windle Poons peered into the darkness.‘Hallo?’ he said.’Hallo. Anyone there? What ho?’There was a distant, forlorn soughing, as of wind at the end of a tunnel. ‘Come out. come out, wherever you are,’ said Windle, his voice
Hmm, ‘ he said.
Alone of all the creatures in the world, trolls believe that all living things go through Time backwards. If the past is visible and the future is hidden, they say, then it means you must be facing the wrong way. Everything alive is going through life back to front. And this is a very interesting idea. considering it was invented by a race who spend most of their time hitting one another on the head with rocks.
trembling with mad cheerfulness.’Don’t worry. I’m quite looking forward to it, to tell the truth.’
He clapped his spiritual hands and rubbed them together with forced enthusiasm.
‘Get a move on. Some of us have got new lives to go to,’ he said. The darkness remained Whichever way around it is, Time is something that living creatures possess.Death galloped down through towering black clouds.And now he had Time, too.The time of his life.Windle Poons peered into the darkness.‘Hallo?’ he said.’Hallo. Anyone there? What ho?’There was a distant, forlorn soughing, as of wind at the end of a tunnel. ‘Come out. come out, wherever you are,’ said Windle, his voice
订阅：
博文 (Atom)