Andy Warhol Jackie 1964

Andy Warhol Jackie 1964Andy Warhol Flowers 1970Maxfield Parrish daybreak
What island?" said Will. He found his own voice strained, too, so tight it hardly seemed his.
"The gate to the land of the dead is on this island," said the boatman. "Everyone comes here, kings, queens, murderers, poets, Lyra gave a little half-hiccup-half-sob, for Pan would have shown her how well he could do it; but not now, maybe not ever again.
"Are we dead now?" Will said to the boatman.
"Makes no difference," he said. "There's some that came here never believing they were dead. They insisted all the way that they were alive, it was a mistake, someone would have to pay; made no difference. There's others who longed to be dead when they were alive, poor soulschildren; everyone comes this way, and none come back.""We shall come back," whispered Lyra fiercely. He said nothing, but his ancient eyes were full of pity.As they moved closer, they could see branches of cypress and yew hanging down low over the water, dark green, dense, and gloomy. The land rose steeply, and the trees grew so thickly that hardly a ferret could slip between them, and at that thought