Jack Vettriano All Systems Go

Jack Vettriano All Systems GoJack Vettriano After The Thrill Is GoneJack Vettriano After Midnight
Chrysoprase don't like being kept waiting.'
'I know, it–’head. It had a twang.
Needing to drink.
Needing to buy Band With Rocks In shirts . . .
Dibbler's face, very slowly, rearranged itself into a grin.
'A free festival,' he said. 'Right! It's our public duty. Music should be free. And sausages in a bun should be a dollar each, mustard extra. Maybe a dollar‑fifty. And that's cutting my own throat.'
In the wings, the noise of the audience was a solid wall of sound.'He gets sad if he's kept waiting–’'All right!' shouted Dibbler. 'Free! And that's cutting my own throat. You do know that, don't you?'Buddy played a chord. It seemed to leave little lights in the air.'Let's go,' he said softly.‘I know this city,' Dibbler mumbled, as The Band With Rocks In hurried towards the vibrating stage. 'Tell people something's free and you'll get thousands of them turning up–’Needing to eat, said a voice in his

Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by Rankin

Jack Vettriano Zara Philips by RankinJack Vettriano You Can't Come To This Party!Jack Vettriano Yesterday's Dreams
doors opened, and a large oddly shaped flat box came out, hesitantly. It advanced in a curious way ‑ a few steps forward, a couple of steps back. And it was also talking to itself.
Detritus looked down. He could see . . . he paused . . . at least seven legs of various sizes, only four of which had feet.
He shambled across to the box and banged on the side.
'Hello, hello, piano.
Detritus scratched his head. This seemed to cover it.
'Well . . . all right,' he said.
He watched the piano jerk and wobble down the marble steps and round the corner.
It carried on talking to itself:
'How long have we got, d'you think?' hello, what is all this . . . then?' he said, concentrating to get the sentence right.The box stopped.Then it said, 'We're a piano.'Detritus gave this due consideration. He wasn't sure what a piano was.'A piano move about, does it?' he said.'It's . . . we've got legs,' said the piano.Detritus conceded the point.'But it are the middle of the night,' he said.'Even pianos have to have time off,' said the

Douglas Hofmann Jessica

Douglas Hofmann JessicaPino remember whenPablo Picasso Three WomenPablo Picasso Seated Bather
trekked back to the distant door, went out into the hall, and tried the next door. A suspicion was beginning to form in her mind.
The door led to A moment later another one appeared in its place, with the faintest of 'pings'. In front of her eyes, sand began to fall . . .
And she was aware that this process was going on all over the room. Old hourglasses vanished, new ones took their place.
She knew about this, too.another huge room, but this one was full of shelves, floor to distant, cloud‑hung ceiling. Every shelf was lined with hourglasses.The sand pouring from the past to the future filled the room with a sound like surf, a noise made up of a billion small sounds.Susan walked between the shelves. It was like being in a crowd.Her eye was caught by a movement on a nearby shelf. In most of the hourglasses the falling sand was a solid silver line but in this one, just as she watched, the line vanished. The last grain of sand tumbled into the bottom bulb.The hourglass vanished with a small 'pop'.

Andy Warhol Banana

Andy Warhol Banana
Salvador Dali ArgusJohannes Vermeer The Little StreetJohannes Vermeer Mistress and Maid
have helped Miss Butts.
All she'd been able to manage was: 'I wonder if, perhaps, you fully understood what I have told you?'
The child had stared at the ceiling as though trying to work out a difficult problem in algebra and then said, ' I expect I will.'
It was as if she'd already known, and had dealt with it in some way. Miss Butts had asked the teachers to watch Susan carefully. 'I'm sorry to say that it appears you have been missed in lessons again.'They'd said that was hard, because . . .There was a tentative knock on Miss Butts's study door, as if it was being made by someone who'd really prefer not to be heard. She returned to the present.'Come,' she said.The door swung open.Susan always made no sound. The teachers had all remarked upon it. It was uncanny, they said. She was always in front of you when you least expected it.'Ah, Susan,' said Miss Butts, a tight smile scuttling across her face like a nervous tick over a worried sheep. 'Please sit down.''Of course, Miss Butts.'Miss Butts shuffled the papers.'Susan . . .''Yes, Miss Butts?'

Pino Morning Breeze

Pino Morning BreezePino First GlanceEdvard Munch The Girls on the BridgeMartin Johnson Heade Rio de Janeiro Bay
you writing it all down, like Captain Vimes did?' she said, after a while.
'No.'
'What are you know. Propping and shoring. You can't get things wrong in a mine. You have to do things right.'
His pencil scritched on the paper.
The door was still ajar, but there was a tentative tap on it which said, in a kind of doing, then?''I'm writing to my mum and dad.''Really?''I always write to my mum and dad. I promised them. Anyway, it helps me think. I always write letters home when I'm thinking. My dad sends me lots of good advice, too.'There was a wooden box in front of Carrot. Letters were stacked in it. Carrot's father had been in the habit of replying to Carrot on the back of Carrot's own letters, because paper was hard to come by at the bottom of a dwarf mine.'What kind of good advice?''About mining, usually. Moving rocks. You

Leroy Neiman Washington Square Park

Leroy Neiman Washington Square ParkLeroy Neiman The Brooklyn BridgeLeroy Neiman Roulette II
that one in your belt?'
Carrot said nothing. However, he shifted position slightly. His biceps strained against the leather of his jerkin.
'Official sword. Right,' said Quirke. He turned. He was one of those people who would recoil from an assault on strength, butwords like halfpint and gritsucker were offensive, they were as terms of universal brotherhood compared to words like 'people of their type' in the mouth of men like Quirke. Much to her shock, she found her gaze concentrating on the man's jugular vein.
'Fighting?' said Carrot. 'Why?'
Quirke shrugged.
'Who knows?' attack weakness without mercy. 'Where's the gritsucker?' he said. 'And the rock?''Ah,' said Vimes, 'you are referring to those representative members of our fellow sapient races who have chosen to throw in their lots with the people of this city?''I mean the dwarf and the troll,' said Quirke.'Haven't the faintest idea,' said Vimes cheerfully. It seemed to Angua that he was drunk again, if people could get drunk on despair.'We dunno, sir,' said Colon. 'Haven't seen 'em all day.''Probably fighting up in Quarry Lane with the rest of them,'' said Quirke. 'You can't trust people of their type. You ought to know that.'And it also seemed to Angua that although

Rembrandt Saskia As Flora

Rembrandt Saskia As FloraRembrandt Samson And DelilahLord Frederick Leighton OdalisqueLord Frederick Leighton Nausicaa
do our best!'
'Um. I didn't translate that properly. Um. They don't think we're any good. They don't mean to be offensive, sir. They just don't think we'll be allowed to get anywhere, sir.'

'Ow!'
'Sorry about that, captain,' said Carrot, who was walking like an inverted L. 'After you. Mind your head on the—'
'Ow!'
'Perhaps it'd be 'Someone thumped the wall pretty hard just here,' said Carrot.
'Could have happened at any time,' said Vimes.
'No, sir, because there's the plaster dust underneath best if you sat down and I'll look around.'The workshop was long and, of course, low, with another small door at the far end. There was a big workbench under a skylight. On the opposite wall was a forge and a tool rack. And a hole.A chunk of plaster had fallen away a few feet above the ground, and cracks radiated away from the shattered brickwork underneath.Vimes pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn't found time to sleep today. That was another thing. He'd have to get used to sleeping when it was dark. He couldn't remember when he'd last slept at night.He sniffed.'I can smell fireworks,' he said.'Could be from the forge,' said Carrot. 'Anyway, trolls and dwarfs have been letting fireworks off all over the city.'Vimes nodded.'All right,' he said, 'so what can we see?'