Caravaggio The Conversion on the Way to Damascus

Caravaggio The Conversion on the Way to DamascusCaravaggio The AnnunciationCaravaggio Sleeping CupidCaravaggio Lute PlayerCaravaggio Adoration of the Shepherds
Amazed,’ echoed Ginger.
‘Ugly devil, though,’ said Dibbler. He gave Gaspode a long, slow stare, which was like challenging a centipede to an arse-kicking contest. Gaspode could outstare a mirror.
Dibbler Over Holy Wood, the stars were out. They were huge balls of hydrogen heated to millions of degrees, so hot they could not even burn. Many of them would swell enormously before they died, and then shrink to tiny, resentful dwarfs remembered only by sentimental astronomers. In the meantime, they glowed because of metamorphoses beyond the reach of alchemists, and turned mere boring elements into pure light.
Over Ankh-Morpork, it just rained. seemed to be turning an idea over in his mind. ‘Mind you . . . bring him along in the morning. People like a good laugh,’ said Dibbler. ‘Oh, he’s a laugh all right,’ said Victor. ‘A scream.’ As they walked off Victor heard a quiet voice behind him say, ‘I’ll get you for that. Anyway, you owe me a dollar.’ ‘What for?’ ‘Agent’s fee,’ said Gaspode the Wonder Dog.