Andy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on red

Andy Warhol dollar sign black and yellow on redAndy Warhol Diamond Dust Shoes Lilac Blue GreenAndy Warhol Daisy Double PinkAndy Warhol ButtonsAndy Warhol Basket of Flowers
One of them keeps bouncing up and down in his wheelchair and shouting things like "Way‑hey!" and "Whoopwhoop!" and "Hubba­hubba!" ‘
‘That’s the oldest wizard in the world,’ said Victor. He waved at a fat lady in the crowd, who fainted.
‘Good
‘Well, so are we. I guess.’
‘Why?’
‘Because we’re us. It’s like you said, that time on the beach. We’re us, just as big as we can be. It’s just what you wanted. We’re–‘
He stopped.
The troll at the door of the Odium gave him a hesitant salute. The thump as its hand smacked into its ear was quite audible above the roar of the crowd . . .
grief! What was he like fifty years ago?’‘Well, for one thing he was eighty.[25] Don’t blow him a kiss!’The crowd roared its approval.‘He looks sweet.’‘Just keep smiling and waving.’‘Oh, gods, look at all those people waiting to be introduced to us!’‘I can see ‘em,’ said Victor.‘But they’re important!’
Gaspode waddled at high speed down an alleyway, with

William Bouguereau Jeune Bergere Debout

William Bouguereau Jeune Bergere DeboutJohn Constable Malvern HallJohn William Waterhouse The SorceressJohn William Waterhouse The Enchanted GardenJohn William Waterhouse Psyche Entering Cupid's Garden
Then he trotted after Ginger, hating himself. If I was a wolf, which technic’ly I am, he thought, there’d definitely be a out as he strove to keep up. His head was aching.
He risked a few sideways squints to see if any other dogs were watching. If they were, he thought, he could pretend he was chasin’ her. Which was what he was doing, anyway. Yeah. The trouble was, he never had much breath at the best of times, and it was getting hard to keep pace. She ought to have the decency to slow down a bit.
Ginger began to climb the lower slopes of the hill. rending of jaws and similar. Any girl wandering around by herself would be in dead trouble. I could attack, I could attack any time I liked, I’m jus’ choosing not to. One thing I’m not doin’, I’m not sort of keepin’ an eye on her. I know Victor told me to keep an eye on her, but catch me goin’ around doin’ what humans tell me. I’d like to see humans that could give me orders. Tear his froat out, jus’ like that. Hah. An’ if anything happened to her he’d go around moonin’ for days and prob’ly forget to feed me. Not that dogs like me needs humans to feed ‘em, I could be out bringing down reindeers just by leaping on their backs and bitin’ their jugulars off, but it’s damn convenient getting it all on a plate. She was moving quite fast. Gaspode’s tongue hung

Thomas Gainsborough The Morning Walk

Thomas Gainsborough The Morning WalkThomas Gainsborough The Harvest WagonThomas Gainsborough Cottage Girl with Dog and PitcherAlexandre Cabanel The Birth of VenusSandro Botticelli The Story of Nastagio degli Onesti
growled.
‘Maybe if it moves around a lot it’ll look like more than one camel,’ said the youth optimistically.
‘Why not ride the camel past the picture box, and then get the handleman to stop the demons, and lead it back and put a different rider on it, then start up the box again and ride it past again?’ said Victor. ‘Would that work?’
Dibbler looked at him open-mouthed.
‘What did I tell you?’ he said, to the sky in general. ‘The lad is a genius! That way we can get a hundred camels for the price of one, right?’
‘It means the desert bandits ride in single file, though,’ said the youth. ‘It’s not like, you know, a massed attack.’
‘Sure, sure,’ said Dibbler dismissively. ‘Makes sense. We just put a card up where the leader says, he says-’ He thought for a second. ‘He says, "Follow me in single file, bwanas, to fool the hated enemy," OK?’
He nodded at Victor. ‘Have you met my nephew Soll?’ he said. ‘Keen lad. Been nearly to school and everything. Brought him out here yesterday. He’s Vice-President in Charge of Making Pictures.’
Soll and Victor exchanged nods.
‘I don’t think "bwanas" is the right word, Uncle,’ said Soll.
‘It’s Klatchian, isn’t it?’ said Dibbler.

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,Arles

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,ArlesLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra de BenciLeonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young LadyLeonardo da Vinci LedaLeonardo da Vinci Leda 1530
really couldn’t say, Master,’ said the Bursar, getting his breath back. ‘Alchemy has never interested me. It’s altogether too . . . too . . . ‘
‘Dangerous,’ said the Archchancellor firmly. ‘Lot of damn mixin’ things up and saying, hey, what’ll happen if we ‘Right.’ The door closed.
The Bursar stared at it, and sighed.
Unseen University had had many different kinds of Archchancellor over the years. Big ones, small ones, cunning ones, slightly insane ones, extremely insane ones - they’d add a drop of the yellow stuff, and then goin’ around without yer eyebrows for a fortnight.’ ‘I was going to say impractical,’ said the Bursar. ‘Trying to do things the hard way when we have perfectly simple everyday magic available.’ ‘I thought they were trying to cure the philosopher’s stones, or somethin’,’ said the Archchancellor. ‘Lot of damn nonsense, if you ask me. Anyway, I’m off.’ As the Archchancellor began to sidle out of the room the Bursar hastily waved a handful of papers at him. ‘Before you go, Archchancellor,’ he said desperately, ‘I wonder if you would just care to sign a few-’ ‘Not now, man,’ snapped the Archchancellor. ‘Got to see a man about a horse, what?’ ‘What?’

Edward Hopper Night Windows

Edward Hopper Night WindowsEdward Hopper Lighthouse HillEdward Hopper Hotel RoomEdward Hopper Hotel LobbyEdward Hopper Girlie Show
turned back to the river, extended his hands in front of him, pressed them together and then opened them gently. There waspropelled itself dreamily out of the wall of water, flailed madly in mid-air, and flopped into the ooze. Teppic trod heavily on its snout and plunged on.
Behind him a few of the quicker citizens, seeing the dazed creatures below them, began to look for stones. The crocodiles had been undisputed masters of the river since primordial times, but if it was possible to do a little catching-up in the space of a few minutes, it was certainly worth a damp sucking noise, and the waters of the Djel parted in front of him. There was a sigh from the crowd, but their astonishment was nothing to the surprise of a dozen or so crocodiles, who were left trying to swim in ten feet of air. Teppic ran down the bank and over the heavy mud, dodging to avoid the tails that slashed wildly at him as the reptiles dropped heavily on to the riverbed. The Djel loomed up as two khaki walls, so that he was running along a damp and shadowy alley. Here and there were fragments of bones, old shields, bits of spear, the ribs of boats. He leapt and jinked around the debris of centuries. Ahead of him a big bull crocodile

Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone Bridge

Thomas Kinkade Cobblestone BridgeThomas Kinkade Clearing StormsThomas Kinkade Bridge of FaithThomas Kinkade Autumn LaneJohn Collier Spring
a very good day it was too, if I may say so, sire. Teppic was lost for words. 'You thought so?' he said.
'The cloud effects at dawn were particularly effective.'
'They were? Oh. Do I have to do anything about the sunset?'
'Your majesty is pleased to joke,' said Dios. 'Sunsets happen by themselves, sire. Haha.'
'Haha,' echoed Teppic.
Dios cracked his stripper'.) And Dios knew that this was so.
The secret rituals of the Smoking Mirror held that the sun was in fact a round hole in the spinning blue soap bubble of the goddess Nesh, opening into the fiery real world beyond, and the stars were the holes that the rain comes through. And Dios knew that this, also, was so.knuckles. 'The trick is in the sunrise,' he said. The crumbling scrolls of Knot said that the great orange sun was eaten every evening by the sky goddess, What, who saved one pip in time to grow a fresh sun for next morning. And Dios knew that this was so. The Book of Staying in The Pit said that the sun was the Eye of Yay, toiling across the sky each day in His endless search for his toenails.* (* Lit. 'Dhar-ret-kar-mon', or 'clipping of the foot'. But some scholars say that it should be 'Dar-rhet-kare-mhun'. lit. 'hot-air paint

Frederic Edwin Church Autumn

Frederic Edwin Church AutumnLorenzo Lotto St Catherine of AlexandriaTitian Emperor CharlesTitian The Fall of ManTheodore Chasseriau Apollo and Daphne
didn't do it,' said the duke.
No pain, thought the Fool. Funny, that. On the other hand, you obviously can't feel pain when you are dead. It would be wasted.
'You all saw that I didn't do it,' said the duke.
Death gave dreamy, gentle way, and then held up the blade.
'You see?' he said. 'No blood! It wasn't me.' He looked up at the duchess, towering over him now like a red tsunami over a small fishing village.
'It was her,' he said. 'She did it.'
He stabbed her once or twice, on general principles, and then the Fool a puzzled look. Then he reached into the recesses of his robes and pulled out an hourglass. It had bells on it. He gave it a gentle shake, which made them tinkle.'I gave no orders that any such thing should be done,' said the duke calmly. His voice came from a long way off, from wherever his mind was now. The company stared at him wordlessly. It wasn't possible to hate someone like this, only to feel acutely embarrassed about being anywhere near him. Even the Fool felt embarrassed, and he was dead.Death tapped the hourglass, and then peered at it to see if it had gone wrong.'You are all lying,' said the duke, in tranquil tones. 'Telling lies is naughty.'He stabbed several of the nearest actors in a

Pino LONG STEMMED LOVELIES

Pino LONG STEMMED LOVELIESPino DRESSING TABLEPino DAYDREAMPino DANCING IN BARCELONAPino close to my heart
'Modesty forbids me to comment,' said the Fool, and then remembered himself and added, quickly, 'Prithee.'
They stared at one another again, their minds racing.
Magrat thought: Nanny said look at him properly. I'm looking at him. He just looks the same. A sad thin little man in a ridiculous jester's outfit, he's practically a hunchback.
Then, in the same way that a few random bulges in a cloud can suddenly become a galleon or a whale in the eye of the beholder, Magrat realised that the Fool was not a little man. He was at least of average height, but he made and his flagstones. 'I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.'
Granny lay low over the broomstick as it plunged through the trackless chasms of the mountains, leaning from side to side in the nope that this might have some effect on the steering which seemed, strangely, to be getting himself small, by hunching his shoulders, bandying his legs and walking in a half-crouch that made him appear as though he was capering on the spot.I wonder what else Gytha Ogg noticed? she thought, intrigued.He rubbed his arm and gave her a lopsided grin.'I suppose you haven't got any idea where we are?' he said.'Witches never get lost,' said Magrat firmly. 'Although they can become temporarily mislaid. Lancre's over that way, I think. I've got to find a hill, if you'll excuse me.''To see where you are?''To see when, I think. There's a lot of magic going on tonight.''Is there? Then I think I'll accompany you,' the Fool added chivalrously, after peering cautiously into the tree-haunted gloom that apparently lay between him

Rembrandt Hendrickje Bathing in a River

Rembrandt Hendrickje Bathing in a RiverRembrandt The Polish RiderRembrandt Belshazzar's FeastJohn Singer Sargent Sargent PoppiesLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Idyll
'That's a pretty name. What is it?'
'It's a kind of thumbscrew. Look,' said the king.
'It's not that,' said Nanny.
'Choke-pear?' he said desperately.
'That's a C, and anyway I don't know what it is,' said Nanny Ogg. The king obligingly indicated it on the tray, and explained began, and stopped himself in time. During his adult life he'd been afraid of no man, beast or combination of the two, but Nanny's voice brought back old memories of schoolroom and nursery, of life under strict orders given by stern ladies in long skirts, and nursery food – mostly grey and brown -which seemed indigestible at the time but now appeared a distant ambrosia.
'That's five to me,' said Nanny happily.its use.'Definitely not,' said Nanny.'Smouldering Boot of Punishment?' said the king.'You're a bit too good at these names,' said Nanny sharply. 'You sure you didn't use them when you were alive?''Absolutely, Nanny,' said the ghost.'Boys that tell lies go to a bad place,' warned Nanny.'Lady Felmet had most of them installed herself, it's the truth,' said the king desperately; he felt his position to be precarious enough without having any bad places to worry about.Nanny sniffed. 'Right, then,' she said, slightly mollified. 'It was "pinchers".''But pinchers is just another name for pi—' the king

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,Arles

Vincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,ArlesLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra de BenciLeonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young LadyLeonardo da Vinci LedaLeonardo da Vinci Leda 1530
NOT SUCH A WRENCH, I ASSUME. THEY CAN SEE HOW THEIR DESCENDANTS GET ON. SORRY? IS SOMETHING THE MATTER?
But Verence had vanished into the wall.
DON'T MIND ME, WILL YOU, said Death, peevishly. He looked around him with a gaze that could see through time and space and the souls of men, and noted a landslide in distant Klatch, a hurricane in Howandaland, a plague in Hergen.
BUSY, , saw his own horse go full tilt through the open gateway in the shafts of the coach. A few seconds later three horsemen followed it. The sound of hooves echoed for a moment on the cobbles and died away.
The king thumped the sill, his fist going several inches into the stone.
Then he pushed his way out into the air, disdaining to notice the drop, and half flew, half ran down across the courtyard and into the stables.BUSY, he muttered, and spurred his horse into the sky.Verence ran through the walls of his own castle. His feet barely touched the ground – in fact, the unevenness of the floor meant that at times they didn't touch the ground at all.As a king he was used to treating servants as if they were not there, and running through them as a ghost was almost the same. The only difference was that they didn't stand aside.Verence reached the nursery, saw the broken door, the trailed sheets . . .Heard the hoofbeats. He reached the window

William Beard Dancing Bears

William Beard Dancing BearsAndy Warhol Shot Orange Marilyn 1964Andy Warhol Portrait of Maurice
them Cutwell burst out of his doorway, accelerating down the frosty street with his robes flying out behind him.
Now the horse was cantering, widening the distance between its hooves and the cobbles. With a swish of its tail it cleared theThey sped under the moonlight as silent as a shadow, visible only to cats and people who dabbled in things men were not meant to wot of.
Mort couldn't remember afterwards, but very probably he laughed.
Soon the frosty plains gave way to the broken lands around the mountains, and then the marching housetops and floated up into the chilly sky.Cutwell ignored it. He had more pressing things on his mind. He took a flying leap and landed full length in the freezing waters of the horsetrough, lying back gratefully among the bobbing ice splinters. After a while the water began to steam. Mort kept low for the sheer exhilaration of the speed. The sleeping countryside roared soundlessly underneath. Binky moved at an easy gallop, his great muscles sliding under his skin as easily as alligators off a sandbank, his mane whipping in Mort's face. The night swirled away from the speeding edge of the scythe, cut into two curling halves.

Edward Hopper Summer Interior

Edward Hopper Summer InteriorEdward Hopper SailingEdward Hopper Ryder's House
hear people laughing at him.
The wail started in the depths of his embarrassment and blared out like a foghorn. 'Only this is my first real job and it's all gone wrong!'
The scythe fell Against his protestations she shooed him out into the snow and followed behind him, pulling the door shut and locking it with a heavy iron key which she hung on a nail by the door.
The frost had tightened its grip on the forest, squeezing it until the roots creaked. The moon was setting, but the sky was full of hard white stars that made the winter seem colder stillto the floor with a clatter, slicing a piece off the table leg and cutting a flagstone in half.Goodie watched him for some time, with her head on one side. Then she said, 'I see. What is your name, young man?''Mort,' sniffed Mort. 'Short for Mortimer.''Well, Mort, I expect you've got an hourglass somewhere about your person,'Mort nodded vaguely. He reached down to his belt and produced the glass. The witch inspected it critically.'Still a minute or so,' she said. 'We don't have much time to lose. Just give me a moment to lock p.''But you don't understand!' Mort wailed. 'I'll mess it all up! I've never done this before!'She patted his hand. 'Neither have I,' she said. 'We can learn together. Now pick up the scythe and try to act your age, there's a good boy.'

Thomas Kinkade Lakeside Manor

Thomas Kinkade Lakeside ManorThomas Kinkade cottage by the seaThomas Kinkade almost heaven
The last of Mort's fellow hopefuls had vanished hours ago. He was a wall-eyed young man with a stoop and a running nose, and Sheepridge's one licensed beggar had pronounced him to be ideal aterial. The lad on the other side of Mort had gone off to be a toymaker. One by one they had trooped off – the masons, the farriers, the assassins, the mercers, coopers, hoodwinkers and ploughmen. In a few minutes it would be the new year and a hundred boys would be lives of useful service rolling out in front of them.
Mort wondered miserably why he hadn't been picked. He'd tried to look respectable, and had looked all prospective masters squarely in the eye to impress them with his excellent nature and extremely likeable qualities. This didn't seem to have the right effect.
'Would you like a hot meat pie?' said his father.
'No.'
'He's selling'No. But thanks all the same.'
'Oh.' Lezek deflated a little. He danced about a bit to stamp some life back into his feet, and whistled a few tuneless bars between his teeth. He felt he ought to say something, to offer some kind of advice, to point out thatI expect. He's gone now, anyway. Tell you what, I'll save you a bit of mine.''I don't actually feel very hungry, dad.''There's hardly any gristle.'

Vincent van Gogh The Olive Trees

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mention it. Aye never really thought about it."
"You see, I've cleaned everywhere else," said Esk, sweetly.
"Yes," is considered a peaceful sort of occupation, and where the risks are limited to large volumes falling off the shelves on to one's head, but the keeper of a magic library is no job for the unwary. Spells have power, and down and shoving them between covers doesn't do anything to reduce it. The stuff leaks. Books tend to react with one another, creating randomised magic with a mind of its own. Books of magic are usually chained to their shelves, but not to prevent them being stolen ....
One such accident had turned the librarian into an ape, since when he had resisted all attempts said Mrs Whitlow, "You have, haven't you." "Well, then." "It's just that we've never - done it before," said Mrs Whitlow, "butcan't think why." "Well, then," said Esk. "Ook?" said the Head Librarian, and backed away from Esk. But she had heard about him and had come prepared. She offered him a banana. The orang-outan reached out slowly and then snatched it with a grin of triumph. There may be universes where librarianship

Diane Romanello Sunset Beach

Diane Romanello Sunset BeachGustav Klimt The Virgins (Le Vergini)Gustav Klimt The Three Ages of Woman
not a mother," snapped Granny. "I'm certainly not your mother, if you ever had mothers, which I doubt. If I was your mother I'd have run away before you were born."
"It's only a figure of speech," said the head reproachfully.
"It's a damned insult is what it is!"
There was another whispered conversation.
"If I don't get out," said Granny in ringing tones, "there will be Trouble. Do you see my hat, eh? Do you see it?"
The head reappeared.
"That's the whole point, isn't it?" it said. "I mean, what will there be if we let you out? It seems less risky all round if we "Well, we could come to some arrangement . . . ."
The dwarf halls rang to the sound of hammers, although mainly for effect. Dwarves found it hard to think without the sound of hammers, which they found soothing, so well-off dwarves in the clerical just sort of fill the pit in. Nothing personal, you understand." Granny realized what it was that was bothering her about the head. "Are you kneeling down?" she said accusingly. "You're not, are you! You're dwarves!" Whisper, whisper. "Well, what about it?" asked the head defiantly. "Nothing wrong with that, is there? What have you got against dwarves?" "Do you know how to repair broomsticks?" "Magic broomsticks?" "Yes!" Whisper, whisper. "What if we do?"

Francisco de Zurbaran Still life

Francisco de Zurbaran Still lifeAlbert Bierstadt The Last of the BuffaloDante Gabriel Rossetti Venus Verticordia
Esk could sense Granny as a diffuse silver cloud at the back of her own mind. After some searching she found the eagle. She almost missed it. Its mind was small, sharp and purple, like an arrowhead. It was concentrating entirely on flying, and took no notice of her.
"Good," said Granny approvingly. "We're not going to go far. If you want to make it turn, you must -"
"Yes, and guidance and warnings. She listened with half an ear. It sounded far too complicated. Why couldn't she take over the eagle's mind? It wouldn't hurt it.
She could see how to do it, it was just a knack, like snapping your fingers - which in fact she had never managed to achieve - and then she'd be able to experience flying for real, not at second hand.
Then she could
"Don't," said Granny calmly. "No good will come of it."
"What?"yes," said Esk. She flexed her fingers, wherever they were, and the bird leaned against the air and turned. "Very good," said Granny, taken aback. "How did you do that?" "I - don't know. It just seemed obvious." "Hmph." Granny gently tested the tiny eagle mind. It was still totally oblivious of its passengers. She was genuinely impressed, a very rare occurrence. They floated over the mountain, while Esk excitedly explored the eagle's senses. Granny's voice droned through her consciousness, giving instructions

Johannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl Necklace

Johannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl NecklaceJohannes Vermeer Saint PraxidisJohannes Vermeer Lady Standing at a VirginalJohannes Vermeer A Lady Writing a Letter
Which explains why, when the shop finally materialised in Ankh-Morpork, Rincewind sat bolt upright and said 'We're here,' quicker than a totally sane person.'
'That doesn't make sense,' said Bethan, 'or if it makes sense, I don't like it.' .
The star was bigger than the sun. There would be no night tonight. On the opposite horizon the Disc's own sunlet was doing its best to set normally, but the general effect of all that red light was to make the city, never particularly beautiful, look like something painted by a fanatical artist after a bad time on the shoe polish.
But it was Home. Rincewind peered up and down the mpty street and felt almost happy.Bethan went pale and Twoflower, who had no sense of smell, said, 'Really? How can you tell?'It had been a long afternoon. They had broken into realspace in a number of walls in a variety of cities because, according to the shopkeeper, the Disc's magical field was playing up and upsetting everything.All the cities were empty of most of their citizens and belonged to roaming gangs of crazed left-ear people.'Where do they all come from?' said Twoflower, as they fled yet another mob.'Inside every sane person there's a madman struggling to get out,' said the shopkeeper. 'That's what I've always thought. No one goes mad

Guido Reni The Coronation of the Virgin

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wizards take the spell from you. Terrible things will happen if all eight spells are said too soon.'
'I just want to be left in peace,' said Rincewind.
'Good, good. We knew we could trust you from the day you first opened the Octavo.'
Rincewind hesitated. 'Hang on a minute,' he said. 'You want me to run around keeping the wizards from getting all green gherkins, and even an eel pie and a dish of whelks, and there's always a warm stable somewhere to sleep in and in the morning you are always in the same place as you were the night before and there wasn't all this weather all over the place. I mean, I don't mind about the magic, I'm probably not, you know, the right sort of material for a wizard, I just want to go Home!—'
'But you must—' one of the spells began.the spells together?''Exactly.''That's why one of you got into my head?''Precisely.''You totally ruined my life, you know that?' said Rincewind hotly. 'I could have really made it as a wizard if you hadn't decided to use me as a sort of portable spellbook. I can't remember any other spells, they're too frightened to stay in the same head as you!''We're sorry.''I just want to go Home! I want to go back to where—' a trace of moisture appeared in Rincewind's eye – 'to where there's cobbles under your feet and some of the beer isn't too bad and you can get quite a good piece of fried fish of an evening, with maybe a couple of big

Fabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires II

Fabian Perez Balcony at Buenos Aires IIPino WHITE SANDPino WHISPERING HEARTPino THINKING OF YOU
atmosphere, is a high-risk occupation.
The Head Librarian was sitting on top of his desk, quietly peeling a orange, and was well aware of that.
He glanced up when Trymon entered.
'I'm looking for anything we've got on the Pyramid of Tshut,' said Trymon. He had come prepared: he took a banana out of his pocket.
The librarian the library occupied rather more space than its outside dimensions would suggest, because magic distorts space in strange ways, and it was probably the only library in the universe with Mobius shelves. But the librarian's mental catalogue was ticking over perfectly. He stopped by a soaring stack of musty books and swung himself up into the darkness. There was the sound of rustling paper, and a cloud of dust oated down to Trymon. Then the librarian was back, a slim volume in his hands.looked at it mournfully, and then flopped down heavily on the floor. Trymon found a soft hand poked gently into his and the librarian led the way, waddling sadly between the bookshelves. It was like holding a little leather glove.Around them the books sizzled and sparked, with the occasional discharge of undirected magic flashing over to the carefully-placed earthing rods nailed to the shelves. There was a tinny, blue smell and, just at the very limit of hearing, the horrible chittering of the dungeon creatures.Like many other parts of Unseen University

Martin Johnson Heade Rio de Janeiro Bay

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beside the door and tossed a sack towards Twoflower.
"It's the carcass of a deer that is just about how you humans like it, and a few lobsters, and a sea salmon. The Circumfence provides," he said casually.
He looked hard at the tourist, and then down again at Rincewind.
"What are , that's my view, but if you must know, your moon here is rather more powerful than the ones around my own world."
"The moon?" said Twoflower."I don't under-"
"If I've got to spell it out," said the troll. testily, "I'm suffering from chronic tides."
A bell jangled in the darkness of the shack. Tethis strode across the creaking floor to the complicayou staring at?" he said."It's just that-" said Twoflower."-compared to last night-" said Rincewind."You're so small," finished Twoflower."I see, said the troll carefully."Personal remarks now." He drew himself up to his full height, which was currently about four feet. "Just because I'm made of water doesn't mean I'm made of wood, you know.""I'm sorry," said Twoflower, climbing hastily out of the furs."You're made of dirt," said the troll,"but I didn't pass comments about things you can't help, did I? Oh, no. We can't help the way the Creator made usted devices