Pino THINKING OF YOU

Pino THINKING OF YOUPino THE DANCERPino SWEET DREAMSPino SENSUALITYPino MOTHER'S LOVE
we should have a look,’ he said.
‘Very well, Archchancellor,’ said the Bursar, meekly.

An inviolable rule about buildings for the showing of moving pictures, applicable throughout the multiverse, is that the ghastliness of the architecture around the back is inversely proportional to the gloriousness of the architecture in into money,’ said the Dean. ‘Just a quick illusion. Where’s the harm in that?’
‘It’s called watering the currency,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes. ‘You can get thrown into the scorpion pit for stuff’ like that. Where am I putting my feet? Where am I putting my feet?’
‘You’re fine,’ said a wizard. ‘Right, Dean. Up you come.’
‘Oh, dear,’ moaned the Dean, as he was dragged through the narrow the front. At the front: pillars, arches, gold leaf, lights. At the back: weird ducts, mysterious prolapses of pipework, blank walls, fetid alleys.And the window to the lavatories.‘There’s no reason at all why we should have to do this,’ moaned the Dean, as the wizards struggled in the darkness.‘Shut up and keep pushing,’ muttered the Lecturer in Recent Runes, from the other side of the window.‘We should have changed something

Unknown Artist Albert Edelfelt Virginie

Unknown Artist Albert Edelfelt VirginieUnknown Artist Albert Edelfelt male nude 1George Stubbs Lion Devouring a HorseUnknown Artist Sea of Cortez Cabo San LucasLeroy Neiman Washington Square Park
Woof.’
‘Anyway, Gaspode had heard that all canines could interbreed, even back to the original wolves, so that must mean that, deep down inside, every dog was a wolf. You could make a dog out of a wolf, but you couldn’t take the wolf out of a dog. When the hardpad was acting up and the fleas were feisty and acting full of plumptiousness, it was a comforting thought. I paid ‘em back. I followed the ‘orrible one back to his house an’ piddled all down his front door.’ ‘Woof.’ Gaspode sighed, and waddled away. Sometimes, in his heart of hearts, he wondered whether it wouldn’t after all be nice to belong to someone. Not just be owned by them or chained up by them, but actually belong, so that you were glad to see them and carried their slippers in your mouth and pined away when they died, etc. Laddie actually liked that kind of stuff, if you could call it ‘liked’; it was more like something built into his bones. Gaspode wondered darkly if this was true dogness, and growled deep in his throat. It wasn’t, if he had anything to do with it. Because true dogness wasn’t about slippers and walkies and pining for people, Gaspode was sure. Dogness was about being tough and independent and mean. Yeah.

Vincent van Gogh Road with Cypress and Star

Vincent van Gogh Road with Cypress and StarVincent van Gogh Olive Trees 1889Vincent van Gogh Flower Beds in HollandClaude Monet Water LiliesClaude Monet Chemin dans les Bles a Pourville
Wow,’ he said. An expanse of barely-clad buttock occupied a view recently occupied by the camel’s neck. It was an improvement.
‘Why’, said Ginger icily, ‘am I lying on a camel?’
‘Search me. Didn’t you want to?’
She out of whatever trance he was in.
‘Whoo-hoo,’ he said: ‘Blimey.’
‘Magic,’ breathed Soll. ‘Real magic.’
Dibbler nudged the handleman.
‘Did you get all that?’ he said.
‘Get what?’ said Ginger and Victor together. slid down on to the sand and tried to adjust her costume. At this point they both became aware of the audience. There was Dibbler. There was Dibbler’s nephew. There was the handleman. There were the extras. There were the assorted vicepresidents and other people who are apparently called into existence by the mere presence of moving-picture creation.[12] There was Gaspode the Wonder Dog. And every one, except for the dog, who was sniggering, had his mouth open. The handleman’s hand was still turning the handle. He looked down at it as if its presence was new to him, and stopped. Dibbler seemed to come

Caravaggio The Entombment of Christ

Caravaggio The Entombment of ChristCaravaggio Boy with a Basket of FruitBartolome Esteban Murillo AnnunciationWilliam Bouguereau The Song of the AngelsPierre-Auguste Cot La Tempete
is a proud moment for me,’ he said hoarsely. ‘I can’t tell you how much this means to me. I can honestly say this is the happiest day of my life. I want you to know that. Tommy. Sincerely.’
The reverential silence was broken by a faint sniggering.
Dibbler looked around slowly. There was no-one behind them apart from a small grey mongrel dog sitting in the shade of a long way.
There weren’t any farms around Holy Wood. Anyway, who’d grow things when they could be making movies?
Then he reported to Gaffer for his screen test.
This consisted of standing still for a minute while the handleman watched him owlishly over a heap of lumber. It noticed his expression and put its head on one side. ‘Woof?’ it said. Cut-me-own-Throat Dibbler looked around momentarily for something to throw, realized that this would be out of character, and turned back to the imprisoned Silverfish. ‘You know,’ he said sincerely, ‘it’s really lucky for me that I met you.’ Lunch in a tavern had cost Victor the dollar plus a couple of pence. It was a bowl of soup. Everything cost a lot, said the soup-seller, because it all had to be brought

Pablo Picasso Mandolin and Guitar

Pablo Picasso Mandolin and GuitarPablo Picasso Girl Before a MirrorYvonne Jeanette Karlsen NudeTamara de Lempicka DormeuseTamara de Lempicka Andromeda
Then he leaned closer.
'The rest of your people will be along directly, I expect,' he said.
The Ephebian stepped a bit closer and when he spoke, it was out of the corner of his mouth while his eyes apparently remained fully occupied by looking at the rocks.
'That's right,' he said. 'And yours too, may I ask?'
'Yes. I expect we'll have to massacre you if ours get here first.'
'Likewise, I shouldn't wonder. Still, can't be helped.'
'One of those things, really,' agreed the Tsortean. The other man nodded. 'Funny old world, when you come to think 'Got plenty of dates, if they're any good to you.'
'We're okay on dates, thanks.'
'Sorry.'
The two men stood awhile, lost in their own thoughts. Then the Ephebian put on his helmet again, and the Tsortean adjusted his belt.about it.' 'You've put your finger on it, all right.' The sergeant loosened his breastplate a bit, glad to be out of the sun. 'Rations okay on your side?' he said. 'Oh, you know. Mustn't grumble.' 'Like us, really.' ''Cos if you do grumble, they get even worse.' 'Just like ours. Here, you haven't got any figs on your side, have you? I could just do with a fig.' 'Sorry.' 'Just thought I'd ask.'

Steve Thoms Poppies

Steve Thoms PoppiesEdvard Munch Puberty 1894Unknown Artist Heighton After HoursUnknown Artist Brent Lynch Evening LoungeUnknown Artist Paris Eiffel Tower
sort. I'm sure sacred cats don't leave dead ibises under the bed. And I'm certain that sacred cats that live surrounded by endless sand don't come indoors and do it in the king's sandals, Dios.'
'All cats .
The high priest's staff raised echoes as it touched the flagstones. A blind man could have walked barefoot through the palace by tracing the time-worn dimples it had created over the years.
'I am afraid that we will find that our father has changed somewhat since we last saw him,' said Dios conversationallyare cats,' said Dios, vaguely, and added, 'If we would be so gracious as to follow us.' He motioned Teppic towards a distant arch. Teppic followed slowly. He'd been back home for what seemed like ages, and it still didn't feel right. The air was too dry. The clothes felt wrong. It was too hot. Even the buildings seemed wrong. The pillars, for one thing. Back home, back at the Guild, pillars were gracefull fluted things with little bunches of stone grapes and things around the top. Here they were massive pear-shaped lumps, where all the stone had run to the bottom. Half a dozen servants trailed behind him, carrying the various items of regalia. He tried to imitate Dios's walk, and found the movements coming back to him. You turned your torso this way, then you turned your head this way, and extended your arms at forty-five degrees to your body with the palms down, and then you attempted to move

Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lake

Albert Bierstadt A Quiet lakeFabian Perez Waiting for the romance to comeFabian Perez Waiting For the Romance to Come Back IIFabian Perez VeniceFabian Perez For a Better Life III
Granny's face was immobile for several seconds as she worked out what to do next. Then she smiled to herself, said lightly, 'As you wish,' and went and dislodged Hwel, who was still writing.
The dwarf gave a stiff bow.
'None of that,' snapped Tomjon. 'What do I do next?'
'I don't The Mayor of Lancre coughed behind his hand.
'A proper coronation will take some time to arrange,' he began, 'but we would know. Do you want me to write an acceptance speech?''I told you. I don't want to be king!''Could be a problem with an acceptance speech, then,' the dwarf agreed. 'Have you really thought about this? Being king is a great role.''But it's the only one you get to play!''Hmm. Well, just tell them "no", then.''Just like that? Will it work?''It's got to be worth a try.'A group of Lancre dignitaries were approaching with the crown on a cushion. They wore expressions of constipated respect coupled with just a hint of self-satisfaction. They carried the crown as if it was a Present for a Good Boy.

Paul Cezanne The Hanged Man's House

Paul Cezanne The Hanged Man's HousePaul Cezanne Table CornerPaul Cezanne Still Life with Soup TureenPaul Cezanne Still Life with Fruit Pitcher and Fruit-VasePaul Cezanne Poplar Trees
ghost stays,' said Hwel sullenly.
'But people always jeer and throw things. Anyway, you know how hard it is to get all the chalk dust out of the clothes.'
'The ghost stays. It's a dramatic necessity.'
'You said it was a dramatic necessity in the last play.'
'Well, it was.'. 'Who designed it?'
'A daft old chap in the Street of Cunning Artificers,' said Vitoller. 'Leonard of Quirm. He's a painter really. He just does this sort of thing for a hobby. I happened to hear that he's been working 'And in Please Yourself, and in A Wizard of Ankh, and all the rest of them.''I like ghosts.'They stood to one side and watched the dwarf artificers assembling the wave machine. It consisted of half a dozen long spindles, covered in complex canvas spirals painted in shades of blue and green and white, and stretching the complete width of the stage. An arrangement of cogs and endless belts led to a treadmill in the wings. When the spirals were all turning at once people with weak stomachs had to look away.'Sea battles,' breathed Hwel. 'Shipwrecks. Tritons. Pirates!''Squeaky bearings, laddie,' groaned Vitoller, shifting his weight on his stick. 'Maintenance expenses. Overtime.''It does look extremely . . . intricate,' Hwel admitted

Vincent van Gogh Stairway at Auvers

Vincent van Gogh Stairway at AuversVincent van Gogh Souvenir de MauveVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in BloomVincent van Gogh The Red VineyardVincent van Gogh The potato eaters
And then, without warning, the hammer that can drive a marshmallow-soft toadstool through six inches of solid pavement or an eel across a thousand miles of hostile ocean to a particular pond in an upland field, struck up through her and into the door.
She stepped back carefully, her mind stunned, fighting against a desperate urge to bury her toes into the rock and put forth leaves. The Fool caught her, and the shock nearly knocked him over.
Magrat sagged against the faintly jingling body, and felt triumphant. She had done it! And with no artificial aids! If, like a shower of meringues.
Behind her, very gently, the door was breaking into leaf. only the others could have seen this . . .'Don't go near it,' she mumbled. 'I think I gave it rather . . . a lot.' The Fool was still holding her toastrack body in his arms and was too overcome to utter a word, but she still got a reply.'I reckon you did,' said Granny Weatherwax, stepping out of the shadows. 'I never would have thought of it myself.'Magrat peered at her.'You've been here all the time?''Just a few minutes.' Granny glanced at the door. 'Good technique,' she said, 'but it's old wood. Been in a fire, too, I reckon. Lot of iron nails and stuff in there. Can't see it working, I'd have tried the stones if it was me, but—'She was interrupted by a soft 'pop'.There was another, and then a whole series of them together

John Singer Sargent Paul Helleu Sketching with his Wife

John Singer Sargent Paul Helleu Sketching with his WifeRembrandt Saskia As FloraRembrandt Samson And DelilahLord Frederick Leighton OdalisqueLord Frederick Leighton Nausicaa
duke shrugged. 'No doubt it ended in the river,' he said.
'And the child? He was given to the witches? Do they do human sacrifice?'
'It would appear not,' said the duke. The duchess looked vaguely disappointed.
'These witches,' said the duke. 'Apparently, they seem to cast a spell on people.'
'Well, obviously—'
'Not like a magic spell. They seem to be respected. They do medicine and so on. It's rather strange. The mountain people seem to be afraid of them and proud of them at the same time, It might be a little difficult to move 'Waif?'
'Wait, and consider. Patience is a virtue.' The duke sat back. The smile he smiled could have spent a million years sitting on a rock. And then, just below one eye, he started to twitch. Blood was oozing between the
Once again the full moon rode the clouds.
Granny Weatherwax milked and fed the goats, banked me fire put a cloth over against them.''I could come to believe,' said the duchess darkly, 'that they have cast a glamour over you as well.'In fact the duke was intrigued. Power was always darkly fascinating, which was why he had married the duchess in the first place. He stared fixedly at the fire.'In fact.' said the duchess, who recognised the malign smile, 'you like it, don't you? The thought of the danger. I remember when we were married; all that business with the knotted rope—'She snapped her fingers in front of the duke's glazed eyes, He sat up.'Not at all!' he shouted.'Then what will you do?''Wait.'

Leroy Neiman Lady Liberty

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never tell you about the nodes?' said Albert.
Mort shook' his head again. Albert gave his peppermint a suck; it sounded like the plughole in the bath of God.
'How old 'That's just part of it. I meant the whole universe of time and space and life and death and day and night and everything.'
'Can't say I've ever given it much thought,' said Mort.
'Ah. You ought. The point is, the nodes are part of it. They stop death from getting are you, lad?''Mort. I'm sixteen.''There's some things a lad ought to be tole before he's sixteen,' said Albert, looking over his shoulder at Ysabell, who was sobbing in Death's chair.'Oh, I know about that. My father told me all about that when we used to take the thargas to be mated. When a man and a woman —''About the universe is what I meant,' said Albert hurriedly. 'I mean, have you ever thought about it?''I know the Disc is carried through space on the backs of four elephants that stand on the shell of Great A'Tuin,' said Mort.

Vincent van Gogh Cornfield with Cypresses

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could be fatal.'
'How much more fatal,' said Keli, 'than being dead?'
'I didn't mean for you.'
'Oh.'
'Something very fundamental seems to have gone wrong, you see. You're dead in every sense but the, er, actual. I mean, the cards you're dead. Everything and everyone thinks you're dead.'
'I don't,' said enroll,' he added, 'I mean, you learn where the lavatories are and all that sort of thing before that. But after all that, it's the first thing.'
'You can see me, though.'Keli, but her voice was less than confident.'I'm afraid your opinion doesn't count.''But people can see and hear me!'The first thing you learn when you enroll at Unseen University, I'm afraid, is that people don't pay much attention to that sort of thing. It's what their minds tell them that's important.''You mean people don't see me because their minds tell them not to?'' 'Fraid so. It's called predestination, or something.' Cutwell looked at her wretchedly. 'I'm a wizard. We know about these things.''Actually it's not the first thing you learn when you
'Ah. Well. Wizards are specially trained to see things that are there and not

Unknown Artist Brent Lynch Cigar Bar

Unknown Artist Brent Lynch Cigar BarUnknown Artist Brent Heighton After HoursClaude Monet Weeping Willow
The horse watched him from its stall, occasionally trying to eat his hair in a friendly sort of way.
After a while he became aware that someone else was watching him. The girl Ysabell was lean-big on the half-door, her that means four more barrows, all right, call it five, before I've done halfway to the . . .
'He says,' said Ysabell in a louder voice, 'that apprentices become masters, and you can't have more than one Death. So you're just a servant and you have to do what I say.'
. . . and then eight more barrows means it's all done all the way to the door, which is nearly two-thirds of the whole thing, which means. . . .chin in her hands.'Are you a servant?' she said.Mort straightened up.'No,' he said, 'I'm an apprentice.'That's silly. Albert said you can't be an apprentice.'Mort concentrated on hefting a shovelful into the wheelbarrow. Two more shovelfuls, call it three if it's well pressed down, and

Pierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the Country

Pierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the CountryPierre Auguste Renoir Dance in the CityJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Beaching the Boat (study)
first, madam," said Cutangle.
"Them cigaretty things," asked Granny, "are they good for the nerves?"
Cutangle opened his mouth to point out very courteously that tobacco was a habit reserved for wizards, but thought "She said she threw it in the river . . . ."
The old wizard and the elderly witch stared at each other, their faces illuminated by a flare of lightning outside.
Cutangle shook his head. "The river's flooding," he said. "It's a million-to-one chance."
Granny smiled grimly. It was the sort of smile that wolves ran away from. Granny grasped better of it. He extended the tobacco pouch towards Granny. She told him about Esk's birth, and the coming of the old wizard, and the staff, and Esk's forays into magic. By the time she had finished she had succeeded in rolling a tight, thin cylinder that burned with a small blue flame and made her eyes water. "I don't know that shaky nerves wouldn't be better," she wheezed. Cutangle wasn't listening. "This is quite astonishing," he said. "You say the child didn't suffer in any way?" "Not that I noticed," said Granny. "The staff seemed - well, on her side, if you know what I mean." "And where is this staff now?"

Thomas Kinkade venice

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least she's heading towards the University place," said Hilta. "They'll know what to do."
"That's as may be. How far down river do you reckon they are?"
"Twenty miles or so. Those barges only go at walking pace. The Zoons aren't in any hurry."
"Right." Granny stood up, her jaw set defiantly. She reached for her hat and picked up her sack of possessions What always annoyed the enemies of the Zoon tribe was not simply their honesty, which was infuriatingly absolute, but their total directness of approach. The Zoons had never heard about a euphemism, and wouldn't understand what to do with it if they had one, except that they would certainly . "Reckon I can walk faster than a barge," she said. "The river's all bendy but I can go in straight lines." "You're going to walk after her?" said Hilta, aghast. "But there's forests and wild animals!" "Good, I could do with getting back to civilisation. She needs me. That staff is taking over. I said it would, but did anyone listen?" "Did they?" said Hilta, still trying to work out what Granny meant by getting back to civilisation. "No," said Granny coldly. His name was Amschat B'hal Zoon. He lived on the raft with his three wives and three children. He was a Liar.

Pablo Picasso Mandolin and Guitar

Pablo Picasso Mandolin and GuitarPablo Picasso Girl Before a MirrorYvonne Jeanette Karlsen Nude
thief, not out of wickedness but because it simply wouldn't occur to them to do it any other way, the daft buggers. And what good would it do to take over an owl's body? You couldn't fly, you needed to spend a learning. But the gentle way was to ride in its mind, steering it as gently as a breeze stirs a leaf.
The owl stirred, fluttered up on to the little windowsill, and glided silently into the night.
The clouds had cleared and the thin moon made the mountains gleam. Granny peered out through owl eyes as she sped soon as her claws touched the bark. The tree resented her, she could feel it trying to push her away.
I'm not going, she thought.
In the silence of the night the tree said, Bully me, then, just because I'm a tree. Typical woman.
At least you're useful now, thought Granny. Better a tree than a wizard, eh?silently between the ranks of trees. This was the only way to travel, once a body had the way of it! She liked Borrowing birds best of all, using them to explore the high, hidden valleys where no one went, the secret lakes between black cliffs, the tiny walled fields on the scraps of flat ground, tucked on the sheer rock faces, that were the property of hidden and secretive beings. Once she had ridden with the geese that passed over the mountains every spring and autumn, and had got the shock of she nearly went beyond range of returning. The owl broke out of the forest and skimmed across the rooftops of the village, alighting in a shower of snow on the biggest apple tree in Smith's orchard. It was heavy with mistletoe. She knew she was right as
It's not such a bad life, thought the tree. Sun. Fresh air. Time to

Mary Cassatt Children on the Shore

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'It's gone!' he said. 'The back! Gone!'
Twoflower turned to Rincewind.
'My father used to recommend hanging from the top of a door,' he said conversationally.

Weems crept very cautiously through the scrubby, mist-laden trees. The pale damp air muffled all sounds, but he'It's circular now,' said Bethan. 'It looks like a tiny sun. I'm sure it's getting hotter, too.'
'Don't,' said Rincewind. 'As if I hadn't got enough to worry about.'
'What I don't understand,' said Cohen, who was having his back massaged, 'ish how they captured you without ush hearing it. We wouldn't have known at all if your Luggage hadn't kept jumping was certain that there had been nothing to hear for the past ten minutes. He turned around very slowly, and then allowed himself the luxury of a long, heartfelt sigh. He stepped back into the cover of the bushes.Something nudged the back of his knees, very gently. Something angular.He looked down. There seemed to be more feet down there than there ought to be.There was a short, sharp snap. The fire was a tiny dot of light in a dark landscape. The moon wasn't up yet, but the star was a lurking glow on the horizon.

Herbert James Draper Prospero Summoning Nymphs and Deities

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inauguration as head of the Order, couldn't rid himself of the feeling that it had grown slightly while he watched. He turned away from the window with a shudder.
'Well?' he said.
'It's a star,' said the Professor of Astrology, 'I think.'
'You think?'
The astrologer winced. They were standing in Unseen University's observatory, and the tiny ruby pinpoint on the horizon wasn't glaring at him any worse than his new master.
'Well, you see'Bigger than Great A'Tuin and the Disc together,' he said. 'We've checked,' he added hurriedly, 'and we're quite sure.'
That is big,' agreed Trymon. The word "huge" comes to mind.'
'Massive,' agreed the astrologer hurriedly., the point is that we've always believed stars to be pretty much the same as our sun —''You mean balls of fire about a mile across?''Yes. But this new one is, well—big.''Bigger than the sun?' said Trymon. He'd always considered a mile-wide ball of fire quite impressive, although he disapproved of stars on principle. They made the sky look untidy.'A lot bigger,' said the astrologer slowly.'Bigger than Great A'Tuin's head, perhaps?'The astrologer looked wretched.

Paul Klee Heroic Roses

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Thank you for telling me," said Rincewind weakly.
"Actually, they're rather good," said Twoflower, his mouth full. "I thought you liked seafood?"
"Yes, I thought I did," said Rincewind. "What's this wine - crushed octopus eyeballs?"
"Sea grape," said the old man.
"Great," said Rincewind, and swallowed a glassful. "Not bad. A bit salty, maybe."
"Sea grape is a kind of small jellyfish," explained the stranger. "And now I really think I should introduce myself. Why has your friend gone that strange colour?"
"Culture shock,.
"What's a canard?" said Twoflower.
"I think it's a kind of duck," said Rincewind from the far end of the long table. "Are these biscuits made of something really nauseating, do you suppose?"
"-and then we were rescued at great magical expense-" I imagine," said Twoflower. "What did you say your name was?""I didn't. It's Garhartra. I'm the Guestmaster, you see. It is my pleasant task to make sure that your stay here is as delightful as possible." He bowed. "If there is anything you want you have only to say."Twoflower sat down on an ornate mother-of-pearl chair with a glass of oily wine in one hand and a crystallised squid in the other. He frowned."I think I've missed something along the way," he said. "First we were told we were going to be slaves-""A base canard!" interrupted Garhartra
"They're made of pressed seaweed," snapped the Guestmaster.

Pino Morning Dreams

Pino Morning DreamsPino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLEPino DAYDREAM
orange word that hung beside its companion.
"Urshoring. Kvanti. Pythan. N'gurad. Feringomalee." As the words blazed their rainbow colours around him he flung his hands back and prepared to say the eighth and final word that would appear in corruscating octarine and seal the And the dragon, curving gracefully at the top of his flight, gave a lazy flip of his wings and soared through a cavemouth into the morning air.
At noon, in a wide green meadow on the spell. The imminent rocks were forgotten."-" he began.The breath was knocked out of him, the spell scattered and snuffed out. A pair of arms locked around his waist and the whole world jerked sideways as the dragon rose out of its long dive claws grazing just for a moment the topmost rock on the Wyrmberg's noisome floor. Twoflower laughed triumphantly."Got him!"