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?
2009年4月10日星期五
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
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