Jack Vettriano The Apprentice

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set the glass down and twanged it with a bony digit.
It went whauuummmmeeee‑chida‑chida‑chida.
HE HAS NO LIFE. HE HAS MUSIC.
'Music's taken him over?'
YOU COULD PUT IT LIKE THAT.
'Making his life longer?'
LIFE IS EXTENSIBLE. IT HAPPENS OCCASIONALLY AMONG HUMANS. NOT OFTEN. USUALLY TRAGICALLY, IN A THEATRICAL KINDIT IS NOTHING IMPORTANT. A PIECE OF MYTHOLOGICAL DEBRIS. MATTERS WILL RESOLVE THEMSELVES, YOU MAY DEPEND UPON IT.
'What do you mean, resolve themselves?'
HE WILL PROBABLY BE DEAD IN A MATTER OF DAYS.
Susan stared at the lifetimer. OF WAY. BUT THIS ISN'T ANOTHER HUMAN. THIS IS MUSIC.'He played something, on some sort of stringed instrument like a guitar–'Death turned.INDEED? WELL, WELL, WELL . . .'Is that important?'IT IS . . . INTERESTING.'Is it something I should know?'
'But that's dreadful!'

Salvador Dali The Rose

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remember things,' said Susan, 'but I can't remember them until I've seen them. Like the bathroom. Like you.'
'Your mum and dad thought it best if you forgot,' said Albert. 'Hah! It's in the bone! They was afraid it was going to happen and it has! You've inherited.'
'Oh, I know about that'Yes.'
SQUEAK.
'You expect me to believe that, do you?' said Susan, trying to summon up her most withering scorn.
Albert glared back like someone who'd done all his withering a long time ago., too,' said Susan. 'It's all about mice and beans and things.'Albert gave her a blank look.'Look, I'll try to put it tactful,' he said.Susan gave him a polite look.'Your grandfather is Death,' said Albert. 'You know? The skeleton in the black robe? You rode in on his horse and this is his house. Only he's . . . gone away. To think things over, or something. What I reckon's happening is you're being sucked in. It's in the bone. You're old enough now. There's a hole and it thinks you're the right shape. I don't like it any more than you do.''Death,' said Susan, flatly. 'Well, I can't say I didn't have suspicions. Like the Hogfather and the Sandman and the Tooth Fairy?'

William Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with Sun

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sent him on a special errand.'
'Er . . . can't find Lance-Constable Angua, either.'
'Sergeant?'
Colon braced himself. Outside, the bells were dying away.
'Did you know she was a werewolf?'
'Um . . . Captain Vimes kind of hinted, sir . . .'
'How did he hint?'
Colon took a step 'I suppose so. Well, let's get organized, sergeant.'

Corporal Nobbs toiled through the darkness under the city. Hiback.'He sort of said, "Fred, she's a damn werewolf. I don't like it any more than you do, but Vetinari says we've got to take one of them as well, and a werewolf's better than a vampire or a zombie, and that's all there is to it." That's what he hinted.''I see.''Er . . . sorry about that, sir.''Just let's get through the day, Fred. That's all—'—abing, abing, a-bing-bong—'We never even presented the captain with his watch,' said Carrot, taking it out of his pocket. 'He must have gone off thinking we didn't care. He was probably looking forward to getting a watch. I know it always used to be a tradition.''It's been a busy few days, sir. Anyway, we can give it to him after the wedding.'Carrot slipped the watch back into its bag.

Leroy Neiman Island Hole at Sawgrass

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hesitated. The idea had a certain appeal. . .
'Without ketchup,' Detritus added.
'I think I on his nerves.
'There'll be a few changes, too,' he said. Behind him, the door creaked open. A small, smelly dog limped in.
'But Lord Vetinari hasn't said who's commanding Night Watch,' said Carrot.
'Ho, yes? Seems to me, seems to me,' said Quirke, 'that it's not likely to be one of you lot, eh? Seems to me it's likely the Watches'll be combined. Seems to me there's too much sloppiness around the place. Seems to me there's a bit too much of a ragtag.'
He glanced at Angua again. The way she was looking at him was putting him off.
'Seems to me—' Quirke began again, and then noticed the dog. 'Look at this!' he said. 'Dogs in the Watch House!' He kicked Gaspode hard, and grinned as the dog ran yelping under the table.
'What about Lettice Knibbs, the beggar girl?' said Angua. 'No troll killed her. Or the clown.'
'You got to see the big picture,' said Quirke.saw a fallen stone just a way back there,' said the dwarf. Captain Quirke looked around the Watch room with the air of one who was doing the scenery a favour by glancing at it.'Nice place, this,' he said. 'I think we'll move in here. Better than the quarters near the Palace.''But we're here,' said Sergeant Colon.'You'll just have to squash up,' said Captain Quirke.He glanced at Angua. Her stare was getting

Tamara de Lempicka La bella Rafaela

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well. At least there'd been witnesses.
He walked to the edge of the roof, and peered over.
'Hello, there,' he said. He blinked. It was six storeys down, and not a sight to look at on a recently emptied stomach.
'Er . . . could you come up here, please?' he said.
' 'Ight oo are.'
Vimes Vimes' lips moved as he mentally inserted all those sounds unobtainable to a creature whose mouth was stuck permanently open. Cornice-overlooking-Broad-way. A gargoyle's personal identity was intimately bound up with its normal location, like a limpet.
'Well now, Cornice,' he said, 'do you know who I am?'
'Oh,' said the gargoyle sullenly.stood back. There was a scrape of stone and a gargoyle pulled itself laboriously over the parapet, moving like a cheap stop-motion animation.He didn't know much about gargoyles. Carrot had said something once about how marvellous it was, an urban troll species that had evolved a symbiotic relationship with gutters, and he had admired the way they funnelled run-off water into their ears and out through fine sieves in their mouths. They were probably the strangest species on the Discdidn't get many birds nesting on buildings colonized by gargoyles, and bats tended to fly around them.'What's your name, friend?'' 'ornice-oggerooking-Oardway.'

Edward Hopper Summer Interior

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door slammed in his face.
'Right,' said Vimes.
'Captain, why
The clang of the big corroded Inhumation Bell echoed through the Assassins' Guild. Black-clad figures came running from all directions, pushing and shoving in their haste to get to the courtyard.
The Guild council, assembled hurriedly outside Dr Cruces' office. His deputy, Mr Downey, knocked tentatively at the door.
'Come.'
The council filed in.—?' Carrot began. Vimes held up a hand.'That wraps it up, then,' he said, slightly louder than necessary. 'Nothing to worry about. Let's get back to the Yard. Where's Lance-Constable Whatshername?''Here, captain,' said Angua, stepping out of the alley.'Hiding, eh? And what's that?''Woof woof whine whine.''It's a little dog, captain.''Good grief.'

Pop art guitar player

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Terry Pratehett
“What?”
“I mean that somewhere Mustrum Ridcully married Esmerelda Weather-wax and they lived—“ Granny gritted her teeth “—lived happily ever after. More or less. As much as anyone does.”
“How d’you know?”
“I’ve been On a summer night, with couples going their own ways,
L and silky purple twilight growing between the trees. From
d the castle, long after the celebrations had ended, faint laugh-
ter and the ringing of little silver bells. And from the empty hillside, only the silence of the elvpicking up bits of her memories. She seemed happy enough. And I ain’t easily pleased.”“How can you do that?”“I try to be good at everything I do.”“Did she say anything about—““She didn’t say nothing! She don’t know we exist! Don’t ask questions! It’s enough to know that everything happens somewhere, isn’t it?”Ridcully tried to grin.“Is that the best you can tell me?” he said.“It’s the best there is. Or the next best thing.”Where does it end?*es.