Andrea Mantegna Virgin and child with the Magdalen and St John the BaptistAndrea Mantegna The Madonna of the CherubimAndrea Mantegna The Adoration of the Shepherds
cobblers, poetry,” said Ridcully. “I’ve listened to mountain streams and they just go trickle, trickle, gurgle.
87
Terry Pratchett
And you get them things in them, you know, insect things with little . . . anyway. Doesn’t sound like laughter at all, is my point. Poets always get it wrong. ‘S’like ‘she had lips like cherries.’ Small, round, and got a stone in the middle? Hah!”
He shut his eyes. After a while Ponder said, “So what happened, sir?”
“What?”
“The girl you were telling me about.”
“What girl?”
“This girl.”
“Oh, that girl. Oh, she turned me down. Said there were things she wanted to do. Said there’d be time enough.”
There was her
name. Hah! She could outrun a horse—“
“Kneel and deliver!”
The coach rattled to a halt.
Ridcully opened an eye.
“What’s that?” he said.another pause.“What happened then?” Ponder prompted.“Happened? What d’you think happened? I went off and studied. Term started. Wrote her a lot of letters but she never answered ‘em. Probably never got ‘em, they probably eat the mail up there. Next year I was studying all summer and never had time to go back. Never did go back. Exams and so on. Expect she’s dead now, or some fat old granny with a dozen kids. Would’ve wed her like a shot. Like a shot.” Ridcully scratched his head. “Hah . . . just wish I could remember her name ...”He stretched out with his feet on the Bursar.“’S’funny, that,” he said. “Can’t even remember
Ponder jerked awake from a reverie of lips like mountain
Monday, April 20, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Lord Frederick Leighton The Painter's Honeymoon
Lord Frederick Leighton The Painter's HoneymoonLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Mother and ChildLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Music Lesson
You never heard Om," said Brutha. "You never believed. You never, ever heard his voice. All you heard were the echoes inside your own mind."
"Really? But I am the Cenobiarch and you are going to burn for treachery and heresy," said Vorbis. "So much for Om, perhaps?"
"There will be justice," said Brutha. "If there is no justice, there is nothing."
He was aware of a small voice in his head, too faint yet to distinguish words.
"Justice?" said Vorbis. The idea seemed to enrage him. He spun around to the crowd of bishops. "Did you hear him? There will be justice? Om has judged! Through me! This is justice!"
There was a speck in the sun now, speeding toward the Citadel. And the little voice was saying left left left up up left right a bit up left-"Vorbis?" croaked Brutha.
"What?" snapped the deacon.
"You're going to die."
It was hardly a whisper, but it bounced off the bronze doors and carried across the Place . . .
It made people uneasy, although they couldn't quite say why.
The eagle sped across the square, so low that people ducked. Then it cleared the roof of the temple and curved away towards the mountains. The watchers relaxed. It was only an eagleThe mass of metal under him was getting uncomfortably hot."He comes now," said Brutha.Vorbis waved his hand to the great facade of the temple. "Men built this. We built this," he said. "And what did Om do? Om comes? Let him come! Let him judge between us!""He comes now," Brutha repeated. "The God."People looked apprehensively upward. There was that moment, just one moment, when the world holds its breath and against all experience waits for a miracle.-up left now, when I say three, one, two, THREE-
You never heard Om," said Brutha. "You never believed. You never, ever heard his voice. All you heard were the echoes inside your own mind."
"Really? But I am the Cenobiarch and you are going to burn for treachery and heresy," said Vorbis. "So much for Om, perhaps?"
"There will be justice," said Brutha. "If there is no justice, there is nothing."
He was aware of a small voice in his head, too faint yet to distinguish words.
"Justice?" said Vorbis. The idea seemed to enrage him. He spun around to the crowd of bishops. "Did you hear him? There will be justice? Om has judged! Through me! This is justice!"
There was a speck in the sun now, speeding toward the Citadel. And the little voice was saying left left left up up left right a bit up left-"Vorbis?" croaked Brutha.
"What?" snapped the deacon.
"You're going to die."
It was hardly a whisper, but it bounced off the bronze doors and carried across the Place . . .
It made people uneasy, although they couldn't quite say why.
The eagle sped across the square, so low that people ducked. Then it cleared the roof of the temple and curved away towards the mountains. The watchers relaxed. It was only an eagleThe mass of metal under him was getting uncomfortably hot."He comes now," said Brutha.Vorbis waved his hand to the great facade of the temple. "Men built this. We built this," he said. "And what did Om do? Om comes? Let him come! Let him judge between us!""He comes now," Brutha repeated. "The God."People looked apprehensively upward. There was that moment, just one moment, when the world holds its breath and against all experience waits for a miracle.-up left now, when I say three, one, two, THREE-
Alphonse Maria Mucha Dance
Alphonse Maria Mucha DanceAlphonse Maria Mucha AutumnMichelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam hand
Vorbis lay on his side, his black-on-black eyes staring at nothing.
Brutha tried to sleep.
He had never dreamed. Didactylos had been quite excited about that. Someone who remembered everything and didn't dream would have to think slowly, he said. Imagine a heart,[9] he said, that was nearly all memory, and had hardly any beats to spare for the everyday purposes of thinking. That would explain why Brutha moved his lips while he thought.
So this couldn't , visions of greatness, moments of opportunity, picking him up, taking him high above the world, all this was his, he could do anything, all he had to do was believe, in me, in me, in me-
An image formed in front of him. There, on a stone beside him, was a roast pig surrounded have been a dream. It must have been the sun.He heard Om's voice in his head. The tortoise sounded as though he was holding a conversation with people Brutha could not hear.Mine!Go away!No.Mine!Both of them!Mine!Brutha turned his head.The tortoise was in a gap between two rocks, neck extended and weaving from side to side. There was another sound, a sort of gnat-like whining, that came and went . . . and promises in his head.They flashed past . . . faces talking to him, shapes
Vorbis lay on his side, his black-on-black eyes staring at nothing.
Brutha tried to sleep.
He had never dreamed. Didactylos had been quite excited about that. Someone who remembered everything and didn't dream would have to think slowly, he said. Imagine a heart,[9] he said, that was nearly all memory, and had hardly any beats to spare for the everyday purposes of thinking. That would explain why Brutha moved his lips while he thought.
So this couldn't , visions of greatness, moments of opportunity, picking him up, taking him high above the world, all this was his, he could do anything, all he had to do was believe, in me, in me, in me-
An image formed in front of him. There, on a stone beside him, was a roast pig surrounded have been a dream. It must have been the sun.He heard Om's voice in his head. The tortoise sounded as though he was holding a conversation with people Brutha could not hear.Mine!Go away!No.Mine!Both of them!Mine!Brutha turned his head.The tortoise was in a gap between two rocks, neck extended and weaving from side to side. There was another sound, a sort of gnat-like whining, that came and went . . . and promises in his head.They flashed past . . . faces talking to him, shapes
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Sung Kim Point
Sung Kim PointSung Kim ParadiseSung Kim Palm ReflectionSung Kim Overlook Cafe II
You never come and see me," said the tortoise. "I know you're busy," it added sarcastically, "but a quick prayer would be nice, even."
"I checked you first thing this morning," said Brutha.
"And I'm hungry."
"You had a whole melon rind last night."
"And who had the melon, eh?"
"No, he didn't," said Brutha. "He eats stale bread and water."
"Why ?"
"You did," said Brutha. Then he added: "According to Book One of the Septateuch, anyway."
I've never thought like this before, he thought. I'd never have said "anyway."
"Why'd the captain tell me something like that?" he said. "It's not normal conversation."
"I told you, I never made the world," said Om. "Why should I make the world? It was here already. And if I did make a world, I wouldn't make it a ball. People'd fall off. All doesn't he eat fresh bread?""He waits for it to get stale.""Yes. I expect he does," said the tortoise."Om?" "What?""The captain just said something odd. He said the world is flat and has an edge.""Yes? So what?""But, I mean, we know the world is a ball, because . . .The tortoise blinked."No, it's not," he said. "Who said it's a ball
You never come and see me," said the tortoise. "I know you're busy," it added sarcastically, "but a quick prayer would be nice, even."
"I checked you first thing this morning," said Brutha.
"And I'm hungry."
"You had a whole melon rind last night."
"And who had the melon, eh?"
"No, he didn't," said Brutha. "He eats stale bread and water."
"Why ?"
"You did," said Brutha. Then he added: "According to Book One of the Septateuch, anyway."
I've never thought like this before, he thought. I'd never have said "anyway."
"Why'd the captain tell me something like that?" he said. "It's not normal conversation."
"I told you, I never made the world," said Om. "Why should I make the world? It was here already. And if I did make a world, I wouldn't make it a ball. People'd fall off. All doesn't he eat fresh bread?""He waits for it to get stale.""Yes. I expect he does," said the tortoise."Om?" "What?""The captain just said something odd. He said the world is flat and has an edge.""Yes? So what?""But, I mean, we know the world is a ball, because . . .The tortoise blinked."No, it's not," he said. "Who said it's a ball
Monday, April 13, 2009
Salvador Dali Argus
Salvador Dali ArgusJohannes Vermeer The Little StreetJohannes Vermeer Mistress and Maid
Much taken up with the mundane problems of the empire."
A statement. Not a crack in it where you could insert a bone-disjointer.
"There , who had walked across many a battlefield the day after a glorious victory, when you had ample opportunity to see what winning meant. The Omnians forbade the use of all drugs. At times like that the prohibition bit hard, when you dared not go to sleep for fear of your dreams.
"Did not the Great God declare, through the Prophet Abbys, that there is no greater and more honorable sacrifice than one's own life for the God?"
"Indeed he did," said Fri'it. He couldn't help recalling that Abbys had been a bishop in was the crusade against the Hodgsonites," said Fri'it distantly. "And the Subjugation of the Melchiorites. And the Resolving of the false prophet Zeb. And the Correction of the Ashelians, and the Shriving of the-”"But all that was just politics," said Drunah."Hmm. Yes. Of course, you are right.""And, of course, no one could possibly doubt the wisdom of a war to further the worship and glory of the Great God.""No. None could doubt it," said Fri'it
Much taken up with the mundane problems of the empire."
A statement. Not a crack in it where you could insert a bone-disjointer.
"There , who had walked across many a battlefield the day after a glorious victory, when you had ample opportunity to see what winning meant. The Omnians forbade the use of all drugs. At times like that the prohibition bit hard, when you dared not go to sleep for fear of your dreams.
"Did not the Great God declare, through the Prophet Abbys, that there is no greater and more honorable sacrifice than one's own life for the God?"
"Indeed he did," said Fri'it. He couldn't help recalling that Abbys had been a bishop in was the crusade against the Hodgsonites," said Fri'it distantly. "And the Subjugation of the Melchiorites. And the Resolving of the false prophet Zeb. And the Correction of the Ashelians, and the Shriving of the-”"But all that was just politics," said Drunah."Hmm. Yes. Of course, you are right.""And, of course, no one could possibly doubt the wisdom of a war to further the worship and glory of the Great God.""No. None could doubt it," said Fri'it
Gustav Klimt dancer
Gustav Klimt dancerGustav Klimt Adam and EveFrederic Remington The Cowboy
Although it has nothing much to do with the story, it is an interesting fact that, about five hundred miles away, a small flock, or rather in this case a herd, of birds were picking their way cautiously through the trees. They had heads like
Custom was slow in the Mended Drum. The troll chained to the doorpost sat in the shade and reflectively picked someone out of his teeth.
Creosote was singing softly to himself. He had discovered beer and wasn't having to pay for it, because the coinage of compliments - rarely employed by the swains of Ankh - was having an astonishing effect on the landlord's daughter. She was a large, good-natured girl, with a figure a flamingo, bodies like a turkey, and legs like a Sumo wrestler; they walked in a jerky, bobbing fashion, as though their heads were attached to their feet by elastic bands. They belonged to a species unique even among Disc fauna, in that their prime means of defence was to cause a predator to laugh so much that they could run away before it recovered. Rincewind would have been vaguely satisfied to know that they were geas.
Although it has nothing much to do with the story, it is an interesting fact that, about five hundred miles away, a small flock, or rather in this case a herd, of birds were picking their way cautiously through the trees. They had heads like
Custom was slow in the Mended Drum. The troll chained to the doorpost sat in the shade and reflectively picked someone out of his teeth.
Creosote was singing softly to himself. He had discovered beer and wasn't having to pay for it, because the coinage of compliments - rarely employed by the swains of Ankh - was having an astonishing effect on the landlord's daughter. She was a large, good-natured girl, with a figure a flamingo, bodies like a turkey, and legs like a Sumo wrestler; they walked in a jerky, bobbing fashion, as though their heads were attached to their feet by elastic bands. They belonged to a species unique even among Disc fauna, in that their prime means of defence was to cause a predator to laugh so much that they could run away before it recovered. Rincewind would have been vaguely satisfied to know that they were geas.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Bill Brauer Scarlet Dancer
Bill Brauer Scarlet DancerBill Brauer Harvest MoonBill Brauer Gold Dress
except by walking through the several hundred tons of stone that blocked the tunnel or, to put it in another way, which was the way Rincewind put it, they were undoubtedly trapped. He relaxed a bit.
At least there to eat that carpet, they were probably moths.'
'Gosh.'
'That's what you people never understand,' said Rincewind, wearily. 'You think magic is just something you can pick up and use, like a, a-’
'Parsnip?' said Nijel.
'Wine bottle?' said the Seriph.
'Something like that,' said Rincewind cautiously, bwas no mistaking the magic carpet. It lay rolled up on a raised slab in the middle of the room. Next to it was a small, sleek oil lamp and - Rincewind craned to see - a small gold ring. He groaned. A faint octarine corona hung over all three items, indicating that they were magical.When Conina unrolled the carpet a number of small objects tumbled on to the floor, including a brass herring, a wooden ear, a few large square sequins and a lead box with a preserved soap bubble in it.'What on earth are they?' said Nijel.'Well,' said Rincewind, 'before they tried ut rallied somewhat and went on, 'But the truth is, is-’
except by walking through the several hundred tons of stone that blocked the tunnel or, to put it in another way, which was the way Rincewind put it, they were undoubtedly trapped. He relaxed a bit.
At least there to eat that carpet, they were probably moths.'
'Gosh.'
'That's what you people never understand,' said Rincewind, wearily. 'You think magic is just something you can pick up and use, like a, a-’
'Parsnip?' said Nijel.
'Wine bottle?' said the Seriph.
'Something like that,' said Rincewind cautiously, bwas no mistaking the magic carpet. It lay rolled up on a raised slab in the middle of the room. Next to it was a small, sleek oil lamp and - Rincewind craned to see - a small gold ring. He groaned. A faint octarine corona hung over all three items, indicating that they were magical.When Conina unrolled the carpet a number of small objects tumbled on to the floor, including a brass herring, a wooden ear, a few large square sequins and a lead box with a preserved soap bubble in it.'What on earth are they?' said Nijel.'Well,' said Rincewind, 'before they tried ut rallied somewhat and went on, 'But the truth is, is-’
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