Jack Vettriano Sweet Bird of Youth I

Jack Vettriano Sweet Bird of Youth IJack Vettriano Summertime BluesJack Vettriano Suddenly One Summer
THAT TO ME? YOU? YOU PRATTLE ON ABOUT CHANGING THE WORLD? COULD YOU FIND THE COURAGE TO ACCEPT IT? TO KNOW WHAT MUST BE DONE AND DO IT, WHATEVER THE COST? IS THERE ONE HUMAN ANYWHERE IN, YOU CARRY THE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THE CHANGE. AND THAT IS TOO HEAVY TO BEAR.
'That's just an excuse!'
Susan glared at the tall figure. Then she turned and marched out of the room.
SUSAN?
She stopped halfway across the floor, but didn't turn around.
'Yes?'
REALLY . . . BONY KNEES?
'Yes!' THE WORLD WHO KNOWS WHAT DUTY MEANS?His hands opened and shut convulsively.I SAID YOU MUST REMEMBER . . . FOR US, TIME IS ONLY A PLACE. IT'S ALL SPREAD OUT. THERE IS WHAT IS, AND WHAT WILL BE. IF YOU CHANGE THAT

Gustav Klimt Hygieia (II)

Gustav Klimt Hygieia (II)Gustav Klimt Goldfish (detail)Salvador Dali TigerSalvador Dali The Sacrament of the Last Supper
'How old are you?'
'Sixteen.'
'Oh, my.' Albert rolled his eyes. 'How long have you been sixteen?'
'Since I was fifteen, which was like hot brown water. Albert's cocoa had fat floating in it; if you turned the mug upside down, it would be a little while before anything fell out.
'Your mum and dad,' said Albert, when she had a chocolate moustache that was far too young for her, 'did they ever . . . explain anything to you?'
'Miss Delcross did that in Biology,' said Susan. 'She got it wrong,' she added.
'I mean about your grandfather,' said Albert., of course. Are you stupid?''My, my, how the time does pass,' said Albert. 'Do you know why you're here?''No . . . but,' Susan hesitated, 'but it's got something to do with . . . it's something like . . . I'm seeing things that people don't see, and I've met someone who's just a story, and I know I've been here before . . . and all these skulls and bones on things . . .' Albert's rangy, vulture‑like shape loomed over her. 'Would you like a cocoa?' he said.It was a lot different from the cocoa at the school

Leroy Neiman Sailing

Leroy Neiman SailingLeroy Neiman Nantucket SailingUnknown Artist Apple Tree with Red FruitGeorge Frederick Watts Orpheus and Eurydice
our organ especially for the occasion, he said.
'Hahaha, organ!' said the Bursar.
And a mightyThere was a moment of sound so loud that the aural nerves shut down. When they opened again, somewhere around the pain threshold, they could just make out the opening and extremely bent bars of Fondel's 'Wedding March', being played with gusto by someone who'd discovered that the instrument didn't just have three keyboards but a whole range of special acoustic effects, ranging from Flatulence to Humorous Chicken Squawk. The occasional 'oook!' of appreciation could be heard amidst the sonic explosion. one it is, as organs go—' Ridcully stopped, and signalled to a couple of student wizards. 'Just take the Bursar away and make him lie down for a while, will you?' he said. 'I think someone's been feeding him meat again.'There was a hiss from the far end of the Great Hall, and then a strangled squeak. Vimes stared at the monstrous array of pipes.'Got eight students pumping the bellows,' said Ridcully, to a background of wheezes. 'It's got three keyboards and a hundred extra knobs, including twelve with "?" on them.''Sounds impossible for a man to play,' said Vimes politely.'Ah. We had a stroke of luck there—'

Leroy Neiman Casino

Leroy Neiman CasinoLeroy Neiman Carnaval Suite PassistasLeroy Neiman Carnaval Suite PanterasLeroy Neiman Cafe Rive Gauche
was also the rhythmical sound of dirt being shovelled and rubble being moved.
The Librarian considered matters for a while. So . . . a dwarf and a troll. He preferred both species to humans. For one thing, neither of seminal work How to Kille Insects. All 2,000 pages of it.

Vimes felt quite light-hearted as he walked up Scoone Avenue. He was aware that there was an inner Vimes screaming his head off. He ignored him.
You couldn't be a real copper in Ankh-Morpork and stay sane. You had tothem were great readers. The Librarian was, of course, very much in favour of reading in general, but readers in particular got on his nerves. There was something, well, sacrilegious about the way they kept taking books off the shelves and wearing out the words by reading them. He liked people who loved and respected books, and the best way to do that, in the Librarian's opinion, was to leave them on the shelves where Nature intended them to be.The muffled voices seemed to be getting closer.'Gold, gold, gold—''Now you're singing the chorus!'On the other hand, there were proper ways of entering a library.He waddled over to the shelves and selected Hump-tulip's