Jack Vettriano The Barmaid's Fancy

Jack Vettriano The Barmaid's FancyJack Vettriano The AssessorsJack Vettriano The Assessment
did you?'
Death shrugged.
WHAT'S THAT ? ONE STEP AWAY FROM GRAMPS, IN MY OPINION. ANYWAY, I THOUGHT YOU BELIEVED IN LOGIC. CALLING SOMETHING A FIGURE OF SPEECH DOESN'T MEAN IT'S NOT TRUE.
Death waved the hourglass vaguely.
FOR EXAMPLE, he said, MANY THINGS ARE BETTER THAN A POKE IN THE EYE WITH A BLUNT STICK. I'VE NEVER UNDERSTOOD THE PHRASE. SURELY A SHARP STICK WOULD BE EVEN WORSE–
Death stopped.
I'M DOING IT AGAIN! WHY SHOULD I CARE WHAT THE WRETCHED PHRASE MEANS? OR WHAT YOU CALL ME? UNIMPORTAYOU'VE GOT THERE?He took Buddy's lifetimer from her and held it up.AH. INTERESTING.'Do you know what it means, Grandad?'I'VE NOT COME ACROSS IT BEFORE, BUT I SUPPOSE IT'S POSSIBLE. IN CERTAIN CIRCUMSTANCES. IT MEANS . . . SOMEHOW . . . THAT HE HAS RHYTHM IN HIS SOUL . . . GRANDAD?'Oh, no. That can't be right. That's just a figure of speech. And what's wrong with grandad?'GRANDFATHER I CAN LIVE WITH. GRANDAD

Julius LeBlanc Stewart At Home

Julius LeBlanc Stewart At HomeTitian Sacred and Profane LoveFrancisco de Goya The ParasolBartolome Esteban Murillo Madonna and Child
stomach, although it could probably cause one. Albert could make an egg wish it had never been laid.
'Haven't you got any muesli?' she said.
'Is that some kind of sausage?' said Albert suspiciously.
'It's nuts and grains.'
'Any fat in it?'
'Hah, boiling's no good, it don't kill off all the germs.'
'BOIL ME AN EGG, ALBERT.'
As the echoes bounced across and died away, Susan wondered where the voice had come from.
Albert's ladle tinkled on the tiles.
'Please?' said Susan.
'You did the voice,' said Albert.'I don't think so.''How're you supposed to fry it, then?''You don't fry it.''You call that breakfast?''It doesn't have to be fried to be breakfast,' said Susan. 'I mean, you mentioned porridge, and you don't fry porridge–’'Who says?''A boiled egg, then?'

Paul Klee Park bei Luzern

Paul Klee Park bei LuzernPaul Klee On a Motif from HamametPaul Klee Heroic RosesPaul Klee Hermitage
both hands, and considerable vigour, he threw open the curtains and let in the round, white light of the full moon.
Behind him, he thought he heard Angua sigh in her sleep.
There were Sergeant Colon sat on the bench outside the baking air of the Watch House.
There was a hammering noise from somewhere inside. Cuddy had come in ten minutes before with a bag of tools, a couple of helmets and a determined expression. Colon was damned if he knew what the little devil was working on.
He counted again, very slowly, ticking off names on his clipboard.thunderstorms out on the plain. Carrot could see lightning flashes stitching the horizon, and he could smell rain. But the air of the city was still and baking, all the hotter for the distant prospect of storms.The University's Tower of Art loomed in front of him. He saw it every day. It dominated half the city.Behind him, the bed went glink.'I think there's going to be—' he began, and turned.As he turned away, he missed the glint of moonlight on metal from the top of the tower.

Vincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises I

Vincent van Gogh View of Arles with Irises IVincent van Gogh Wheatfield with a LarkVincent van Gogh Vegetable Gardens in MontmartreVincent van Gogh Vegetable gardens at the Montmartre
clothes had been laid out for him. Tonight there was something dashing in red and yellow . . .
. . . about now he'd be patrolling Treacle Mine Road . . . . . . and a hat. It had a feather in it.
Vimes dressed himself, and even wore the hat. And he seemed quite normal and composed, until you realized that he avoided meeting his own gaze in the mirror.

The Watch sat around thecards, and we get the King's Shilling when we join up,' said Nobby. 'We got kings all over the place except on that gold throne in the Palace. I'll tell you . . . there wouldn't be all this trouble around the place if we had a king.'
Carrot was staring at the ceiling, his eyebrows locked in concentration. Detritus was counting on his fingers.
'Oh, yes,' said Sergeant Colon. 'Beer'd be a penny a pint, big table in the guardroom and in deep gloom. They were Off Duty. They'd never really been Off Duty before.'What say we have a game of cards?' said Nobby, brightly. He produced a greasy pack from somewhere in the noisome recesses of his uniform.'You won everyone's wages off them yesterday,' said Sergeant Colon.'Now's the chance to win 'em back, then.''Yeah, but there were five kings in your hand, Nobby.'Nobby shuffled the cards.' 'S'funny, that,' he said, 'there's kings everywhere, when you look.''There certainly is if you look up your sleeve.''No, I mean, there's Kings Way in Ankh, and kings in