Thomas Kinkade Golden Gate Bridge San Francisco

Thomas Kinkade Golden Gate Bridge San Francisco
from the audience. The band struck up the clown anthem 'The March of the Idiots', and the end of the trombone flew off and hit a clown on the back of the head. He turned and swung a punch at the clown behind him, who ducked, causing
Thomas Kinkade Evening on the Avenue
third clown to be knocked through the bass drum.Colon and Nobby looked at one another and shook their heads.Boffo produced a large
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Christmas
said Colon flatly.'Yes. That's what Dr Whiteface thinks.' Boffo glanced upwards, briefly. They followed his gaze. The rooftops of the Assassins' Guild adjoined the Fools' Guild. It didn't do to upset neighbours like that, especially when the only weapon you had was a custard pie edged with short-crust pastry.'That's what Dr Whiteface
Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Brooke
solemnity, poured the ashes of the late Brother Beano into the other clown's trousers.
A sigh went up a red and white handkerchief and blew his nose with a humorous honking sound.
'Classic,' he said. 'It's what he would have wanted.'
'Have you any idea what happened?' said Colon.
'Oh, yes. Brother Grineldi did the old heel-and-toe trick and tipped the urn down—'
'I mean, why did Beano die?'
'Um. We think it was an accident,' said Boffo.
'An accident,' thinks,' said Boffo again, looking at his enormous shoes.
Sergeant Colon liked a quiet life. And the city could spare a clown or two. In his opinion, the loss of the whole boiling could only make the world a slightly happier place. And yet . . . and yet . . . honestly, he didn't know what had got into the Watch lately. It was Carrot, that wras what it was. Even old Vimes

Jean Fragonard The Love Letter

Jean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The BoltJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida The Two Sisters
pedal-driven carillon in the Fools' Guild would be tinkling, the gongs, bells and chimes of all the Guilds and temples would be in full swing, taking an interest.'
'Dear me. But it is his job.'
'Really? I must demand that you call him off!'
The words echoed around the garden. Several pigeons flew away.
'Demand?' said the Patrician, sweetly.
Dr Cruces backed and filled desperately. 'He is a servant after all,' he said. 'I see no reason why he should be allowed to involve himself in affairs that don't concern him.'
'I rather believe he thinks he's a servant of the and it was impossible to tell them apart, except for the tongueless and magical octiron bell of Old Tom in the Unseen University clock tower, whose twelve measured silences temporarily overruled the din.And finally, several strokes behind all the others, was the bell of the Assassins' Guild, which was always last.Beside the Patrician, the ornamental sundial chimed twice and fell over.'You were saying?' said the Patrician mildly.'Captain Vimes,' said Dr Cruces. 'He's

Mark Spain Only You

Mark Spain Only YouMark Spain Night LightMark Spain Forever YouMark Spain Flamenco IIMark Spain Flamenco I
Poem?”
“The one where you did the gestures.”
“Oh, that poem.”
“I saw Verence making notes on his napkin.”
Nanny They walked in silence for a while.
“So you didn’t tell her that Queen Ynci never existed, then?”
“No point.”
“Old King Lully invented her entirely ‘cos he thought we needed a bit of romantic history. He was a bit mad about that. He even had the armor made.”
“I know. My great-grandma’s husband hammered it out of a tin bath and a couple of saucepans.”
“But you didn’t think you ought to tell her that?”
“No.”
Granny nodded.reached again into the shapeless recesses of her clothing and produced an entire bottle of champagne you could have sworn there was no room for.“Mind you, I thought she looked happy,” she said. “Standing there wearing about half of a torn muddy dress and chain-mail underneath. Hey, d’you know what she told me?”“What?”“You know that ole painting of Queen Ynci? You know, the one with the iron bodice? Her with all the spikes and knives on her chariot? Well, she said she was sure the . . . the spirit of Ynci was helping her. She said she wore the armor and she did things she’d never dare do.”“My word,” said Granny, noncommittally.“Funny ole world,” agreed Nanny.

Franz Marc Foxes

Franz Marc FoxesFranz Marc fighting formsFranz Marc Fate of the Animals
was hopping from one foot to the other.
“We ought to be fighting ‘em. Mum!”
“Look at everyone!” said Nanny. “They’re dog tired and wet and confused! That’s not an army!”
“Mum, Mum, Mum!”
“What?”
“I’ll pussike ‘em up, Mum! That’s what you have to do before troops go into battle. Mum! I read about that in books! You can take a rabble of thingy and make the right kind of speech and pussike them up and turn ‘em into a ter-rible fighting force. Mum!”
“They look terrible anyway!”
“I mean terrible like fierce. Mum!”
Nanny Ogg looked, and banged it on
the planks until people were silent.
He made a speech.

269
Terry Pratchett at the hundred or so Lancre subjects.The thought of them managing to fight anyone at all tooksome getting used to.“You been studyin’ this, Shawn?” she inquired.“I’ve got five years’ worth of Bows and Ammo, Mum,”said Shawn reproachfully.“Give it a try, then. If you think it’ll work.”Trembling with excitement, Shawn climbed on to atable, drew his sword with his good hand
He pointed out that their king had

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Journey of the Magi

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Journey of the MagiJules Joseph Lefebvre Mary Magdalene In The CaveClaude Monet Haystack At GivernyClaude Monet Monet Water Lillies I
Terry Pratchett
Verence had bought for her. The same applied to the engagement ring. She wasn’t sure if you were allowed to keep it.And then she heard the singing.
It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful sound Magrat had ever heard. It flowed straight through the ears and into the hindbrain, into the blood, into the bone .. .
A silk camisole dropped from her fingers on to the floor.
She wrenched at the door, and a tiny part of her mind still capable of rational thought remembered about the keyShe glared at herself in the mirror.She’d have to stop thinking like this. She seemed to have spent her whole life trying to make herself small, trying to be polite, apologizing when people walked over her, trying to be good-mannered. And what had happened? People had treated her as if she was small and polite and good-mannered.She’d stick the, the, the damn letter on the mirror, so they’d all know why she’d gone.She’d a damn good mind to go off to one of the cities and become a courtesan.Whatever that was.

Georges Seurat The Island of La Grande Jatte

Georges Seurat The Island of La Grande JatteWilliam Blake The ResurrectionWilliam Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with SunWilliam Blake The Descent of Christ
square and a gang of men were erecting the Maypole. Someone was nailing up a very badly painted picture of Verence and Magrat under which was the slogan: God Bles Their Majestieys.
With hardly a .
After a while the back door opened and Granny
167
Terry Pratchett
Weather-wax walked out stiffly, holding a bowl of bread and milk. She put it down on the step and turned back without a second glance, closing the door again behind her.
The hare hopped closer.word exchanged, the men parted and stag-gered their separate ways.A hare lolloped through the morning mist until it reached the drunken, ancient cottage in its clearing in the woods.It reached a tree stump between the privy and The Herbs. Most woodland animals avoided The Herbs. This was because animals that didn’t avoid The Herbs over the past fifty years had tended not to have descendants. A few tendrils waved in the breeze and this was odd because there wasn’t any breeze.It sat on the stump.And then there was a sensation of movement. Something left the hare and moved across the air to an open upstairs window. It was invisible, at least to normal eyesight. ‘ The hare changed. Before, it had moved with purpose.Now it flopped down and began to wash its ears

Leroy Neiman Carnaval Suite Panteras

Leroy Neiman Carnaval Suite PanterasLeroy Neiman Cafe Rive GaucheLeroy Neiman Beach at CannesLeroy Neiman April at Augusta
People had discovered her like this before, and it always caused embarrassment. So now she reassured visitors but tempted fate by always holding, in her rigid hands, a small handwritten sign which read:
I ATE’NT DEAD.
The window was propped open with a piece of wood.
“Ah,” said After a while a small shape flittered across it, heading for the upstairs window.
Nanny poured out the tea. She carefully took one spoon-ful of sugar out of the sugar basin, tipped the rest of the sugar into her cup, put the spoonful back in the basin, put both cups on a tray, and climbed the stairs.
Granny Weatherwax was sitting up in her bed.
Nanny looked around.
There was a large bat hanging upside down from a beam.
55Nanny, far more for her own benefit than for anyone else’s, “I sees you’re out. I’ll, I’ll, I’ll just put the ket-tle on, shall I, and wait ‘til you comes back?”Esme’s skill at Borrowing unnerved her. It was all very well entering the minds of animals and such, but too many witches had never come back. For several years Nanny had put out lumps of fat and bacon rind for a bluetit that she was sure was old Granny Postalute, who’d gone out Borrowing one day and never came back. Insofar as a witch could con-sider things uncanny. Nanny Ogg considered it uncanny.She went back down to the scullery and lowered a bucket down the well, remembering to fish the newts out this time before she boiled the kettle.Then she watched the garden.

Mark Spain Flamenco II

Mark Spain Flamenco IIMark Spain Flamenco IMark Spain Eternal Flame
another thing. When you takes the old shoes off, don’t chuck ‘em in the comer for to go for melt with the other scrap. Keep ‘em separate. Melt ‘em separate. Keep a pot spe-cial for it, and make the new shoes out of that metal. Whatever else you do, never put that iron on another living thing.
In fact, Jason had out his hand. The horse shifted its weight and raised the last hoof.
This was a horse in a million. Perhaps more.
Eventually, he had finished. Funny, that. It never seemed to take very long. Jason had no use for a clock, but he had a suspicion that a job which took the best part of an hour was at the same time over in a matter of minutes.
“There,” he said. “Tis done.”
THANK YOU. I MUST SAY THESE ARE VERY GOOD BISCUITS. HOW DO THEY GET THE BITS saved one set of the old shoes for pitching contests at the various village fairs, and never lost when he used them. He won so often that it made him ner-vous, and now they spent most of their time hanging on a nail behind the door.Sometimes the wind rattled the window frame, or made the coals crackle. A series of thumps and a squawk a little way off suggested that the chicken house at the end of the garden had parted company with the ground.9Terry PratchettThe customer’s owner poured himself another cup of tea.Jason finished one hoof and let it go. Then he held

Thomas Kinkade A Holiday Gathering

Thomas Kinkade A Holiday GatheringCaravaggio The Entombment of ChristCaravaggio Boy with a Basket of Fruit
Wisdom comes out of the wilderness, they say."
"Only the wisdom that people want. And mushrooms."
When the sun was , which are the only things on a normal tortoise mind. He avoided it, and found a couple of leaves it had missed.
Periodically he'd stomp back through the gritty soil and watch the sleepers.
And then he saw Vorbis sit up, look around him in a slow methodical way, pick up a stone, study it carefully, and then bring it down sharply on Brutha's head.
Brutha didn't even groan.
Vorbis got up and strode directly toward the bushes that hid starting to climb Brutha milked a goat. It stood patiently while Om soothed its mind. And Om didn't suggest killing it, Brutha noticed.Then they found shade again. There were bushes here, low­growing, spiky, every tiny leaf barricaded behind its crown of thorns.Om watched for a while, but the small gods on the edge of the wilderness were more cunning and less urgent. They'd be here, probably at noon, when the sun turned the landscape into a hellish glare. He'd hear them. In the meantime, he could eat.He crawled through the bushes, their thorns scraping harmlessly along his shell. He passed another tortoise, which wasn't inhabited by a god and gave him that vague stare that tortoises employ when they're deciding whether something is there to be eaten or made love toOm. He tore the branches aside, regardless

Jean Fragonard The Stolen Kiss

Jean Fragonard The Stolen KissJean Fragonard The Love LetterJean Fragonard The Bolt
let's have a drink. Mine's a double, if you're buying. Thank you. And a packet of nuts. Her left bosom is nearly uncovered, eh? Two more packets, then!"
Many people have quoted from his famous Meditations:
"It's a rum old world all right. But you've got to laugh, haven't you? Nil Illegitimo Carborundum is what I say. The experts don't know everything. Still, where would we be if we were all the same?"
Om crawled closer to the voice, bringing himself around the corner of the wall so that he could see into a small courtyard.
There was aFresh Axioms Every Day

In front of the barrel, a short man in a toga that must have once been white, in the same way that once all continents must have been joined together, was kicking another one who was on the very large barrel against the far wall. Various debris around it-broken wine amphorae, gnawed bones, and a couple of lean-to shacks made out of rough boards­suggested that it was someone's home. And this impression was given some weight by the sign chalked on a board and stuck to the wall over the barrel.It read: DIDACTYLOS and NephewPractical Philosophers No Proposition Too Large"We Can Do Your Thinking For You" Special Rates after 6 pm

Caravaggio Narcissus

Caravaggio NarcissusCaravaggio Madonna di LoretoThomas Moran Grand CanyonJean Francois Millet The sowerJean Francois Millet Spring
consciences. That was what consciences were for. Guilt was the grease in which the wheels of the authority turned.
He rounded a corner and saw, scratched crudely on the wall opposite, a rough oval with four crude legs and even cruder head and tail.
He smiled. There rows, melons baked gently on the dusty soil. In the normal way, Vorbis would have noted and approved of this efficient use of space, but in the normal way he wouldn't have encountered a plump young novice, rolling back and forth in the dust with his fingers in his ears.
Vorbis stared down at him. Then he prodded Brutha with his sandal.
"What ails you, my son?"
Brutha opened his eyes.seemed to be more of them lately. Let heresy fester, let it come to the surface like a boil. Vorbis knew how to wield the lance.But the second or two of reflection had made him walk past a turning and, instead, he stepped out into the sunshine.He was momentarily lost, for all his knowledge of the byways of the church. This was one of the walled gardens. Around a fine stand of tall decorative Klatchian corn, bean vines raised red and white blossoms towards the sun; in between the bean

Vincent van Gogh Fishing in Spring

Vincent van Gogh Fishing in SpringUnknown Artist Ranson Apple Tree with Red FruitUnknown Artist Spring is in the Air
reckon.'
War gave this some further consideration. 'I reckon we're well out of it, then,' he said.

People were returning to Ankh-Morpork, which was no longer a city of empty marble but was once again its old self, casement, was back in place. The sourcerer had offered to replace everything as good as new, all wood sparkling, all stone unstained, but the Librarian had been very firm on the subject. He wanted everything replaced as good as old.
The wizards came creeping back with the dawn, in ones or twos, scuttling for their old rooms, trying to avoid one another's gaze, trying to remember a recent past that was already becoming unreal and dream-like.sprawling as randomly and colourfully as a pool of vomit outside the all-night takeaway of History.And the University had been rebuilt, or had rebuilt itself, or in some strange way had never been unbuilt; every strand of ivy, every rotting

Mark Rothko Yellow and Gold2

Mark Rothko Yellow and Gold2Mark Rothko Yellow and BlueMark Rothko Violet Green and Red 1951
always did was build a tower.'
'It's very big,' said Nijel.
Rincewind nodded glumly.
'Where are we going?' said Conina.
Rincewind shrugged.
'Away,' he said.
The outer palace wall drifted just below them. As they passed over it began to shake, and small bricks began to loop towards the storm of flying rock that buzzed around the new tower.
Eventually Conina said, 'All right. How did you get the carpet to fly? Does it really do the opposite of what you command?'
'No. I just paid attention to certain fundamental details of laminar and spatial arrangements.'
'You've lost .'
'Terrified.'
'You don't show it.'me there,' she admitted.'You want it in non-wizard talk?''Yes.''You put it on the floor upside down,' said Rincewind.Conina sat very still for a while. Then she said, 'I must say this is very comfortable. It's the first time I've ever flown on a carpet.''It's the first time I've ever flown one,' said Rincewind vaguely.'You do it very well,' she said.'Thank you.''You said you were frightened of heights'I'm not thinking about it.'
Rincewind turned and looked at the tower behind

William Bouguereau Jeune Bergere Debout

William Bouguereau Jeune Bergere DeboutJohn Constable Malvern HallJohn William Waterhouse The Sorceress
was any beer here, probably. It was a funny thing, but in chilly cities like Ankh-Morpork the big drink was beer, which cooled you down, but in places like this, where the whole sky was an oven with the door left open, people drank, and they’re telling me that as far as your body is concerned your brain is in a minority of one.
Yes? But it's got the casting vote, then.
Hah! That's what you think. Your heart has got nothing to do tiny little sticky drinks which set fire to the back of your throat. And the architecture was all wrong. And they had statues in their temples that, well, just weren't suitable. This wasn't the right kind of place for wizards. Of course, they had some local grown alternative, enchanters or some such, but not what you'd call decent magic ...Conina strolled ahead of him, humming to herself.You rather like her, don't you? I can tell, said a voice in his head.Oh blast, thought Rincewind, you're not my conscience again, are you?Your libido. It's a bit stuffy in here, isn't it? You haven't had it done up since the last time I was around.Look, go away, will you? I'm a wizard! Wizards are ruled by their heads, not by their hearts!And I'm getting votes from your glands

Filippino Lippi Allegory

Filippino Lippi AllegoryBartolome Esteban Murillo A Girl and her DuennaCaravaggio The Incredulity of Saint Thomas
was very hot. The big fireplace at the turnwise end of the Great Hall was practically incandescent. Wizards feel the cold easily, so the sheer blast of heat from the roaring logs was melting candles twenty feet away and bubbling the and cries of 'Ho!' The only possible excuse for this sort of thing is that wizards are celibate, and have to find their amusement where they can.
Another reason for the general conviviality was the fact that no-one was trying to kill anyone else. This is an unusual state of affairs in magical circles.
The higher levels of wizardry are a perilous place. Every wizard is trying to varnish on the long tables. The air over the feast was blue with tobacco smoke, which writhed into curious shapes as it was bent by random drifts of magic. On the centre table the complete carcass of a whole roast pig looked extremely annoyed at the fact that someone had killed it without waiting for it to finish its apple, and the model University made of butter was sinking gently into a pool of grease.There was a lot of beer about. Here and there red-faced wizards were happily singing ancient drinking songs which involved a lot of knee-slapping

Paul Klee Fire in the Evening

Paul Klee Fire in the EveningPaul Klee FarbtafelClaude Monet Haystack at Giverny
never should have listened to that lawyer! I should have known nothing good ever comes in a long brown envelope! And I can’t reach the bloody thing anyway!’
‘Can ‘t you jump?’ said Windle.
‘Can’t you drop dead?’
‘No.’
‘And I’m not jumping!’
‘Fly, then. Turn into a bat and fly.’
‘I can’t get the airspeed!’
‘You held him by the ears like a misshapen bowling ball and tried to take aim.
‘Remember - I’m an endangered species!’ the Count squeaked, as Windle brought his arm back.
It was an accurate throw. Arthur fluttered to the disc in the ceiling and gripped it in his claws.
‘Can you move it?’could throw him up,’ said Ludmilla. ‘You know, like a paper dart.’‘Blow that! I’m a count!’‘You just said you didn’t want to be,’ said Windle mildly.‘On the ground I don’t want to be, but when it comes to being chucked around like a frisbee -‘‘Arthur! Do what Mr Poons says!’‘I don’t see way -‘‘Arthur!’Arthur as a bat was surprisingly heavy. Windle
‘No!’

Thomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan

Thomas Gainsborough Mrs SheridanSandro Botticelli Venus and MarsJean Beraud La Rue de la Paix
Where was she?’
SHE WAS HIDING IN A CUPBOARD.
‘From a fire?’
Bill Door shrugged.
‘I’m amazed you could find anyone in all that heat and smoke,’ she said.
I SUPPOSE YOU WOULD CALL IT A KNACK.
‘And not a YOU.
‘Where are you going?’
TO THE BARN. THERE ARE THINGS I MUST DO. THERE MAY NOT BE MUCH TIME NOW.
Miss Flitworth stared at the small figure on the bed. She felt far out of her depth, and all she could do was tread water.
‘She just looks as if she’s sleeping,’ she said helplessly. ‘What’s wrong with her?’mark on her.’Bill Door ignored the question in her voice.DID YOU SEND SOMEONE FOR THE APOTHECARY?‘Yes.’HE MUST NOT TAKE ANYTHING AWAY.‘What do you mean?’STAY HERE WHEN HE COMES. YOU MUST NOT TAKE ANYTHING OUT OF THIS ROOM.‘That’s silly. Why should he take anything? What would he want to take?’IT’S VERY IMPORTANT. AND NOW I MUST LEAVE

Douglas Hofmann Jessica

Douglas Hofmann JessicaPino remember whenPablo Picasso Three Women
Next thing, I wake up in the dark, I’m in a box, I finally find these matches, I
light one, there’s this card six inches from my nose. It said - ‘ ‘ “You Don’t Have to Take this Lying Down”,’ said Mr Shoe proudly.’That was one of my first ones.’
‘It vasn’t my fault,’ said Doreen, stiffly.’You had been Iyink rigid for tree dace.’
‘It gave ‘Yes, but there was no need for him to say what he said when you pushed the lid off,’ said Doreen. ‘And him a priest, too. They shouldn’t know those kind of words.’the priest a shock, I can tell you,’ said Arthur. ‘Huh! Priests!’ said Mr Shoe.’They’re all the same. Always telling you that you ‘re going to live again after you’re dead, but you just try it and see the look on their faces!’‘Don’t like priests, either, ‘ said the voice from underthe chair. Windle wondered if anyone else was hearing it. ‘I won’t forget the look on the Reverend Welegare’s face in a hurry, ‘ said Arthur gloomily.’I’ve been going to that temple for thirty years. I was respected in the community. Now if I even think of setting foot in a religious establishment I get a pain all down my leg.’

Marc Chagall Le Champ de Mars

Marc Chagall Le Champ de MarsClaude Monet Monet's Garden at argenteuilPaul Gauguin Woman with a FlowerPaul Gauguin The Seed of AreoiPaul Gauguin The Moon and the Earth
whole business and, as it were, eat off your knees. Nevertheless, there is a small chapel off the University’s Great Hallthe chest, unclenched.
Windle raised his head. Some idiot had stuck a lily in his stomach. His eyes swivelled sideways. There was a candle on either side of his head.
He raised his head some more.
There were two more candles down there, too., because while the wizards stand right behind the philosophy as outlined above, you don’t become a success~ wizard by getting up gods’ noses even if those noses only exist in an ethereal or metaphorical sense. Because while wizards don’t believe in gods they know for a fact that gods believe in gods. And in this chapel lay the body of Windle Poons.The University had instituted twenty-four hours ???’ting-in-state ever since the embarrassing affair thirty years previously with the late Prissal ‘Merry Rankster’ Teatar.The body of Windle Poons opened its eyes. Two coins jingled on to the stone floor.The hands, crossed over