Thomas Kinkade Boston

Thomas Kinkade BostonEdward Hopper Soir BleuEdward Hopper Cape Cod Morning
Mrs Cake, who looked as though she was reading a distant script, nodded.
‘One of them things, yeah . . . see, sometimes it just happens a little bit, and you get ghosts, because the life is not in the body any more but it hasn’t gone . . . and you get less of it in the winter, because it sort of drains away, and itto their breathless accounts of the search for the elementary particles of magic itself. This may one day turn out to be a major error on the part of the senior wizards, especially if they do let the younger wizards build whatever that blasted thing is they keep wanting to build in the squash court. The senior wizards know that the proper purpose of magic is to form a social pyramid with the wizards on top of it,
comes back in the spring . . . and some things concentrate it . . .’Modo the University gardener hummed a little tune as he wheeled the strange trolley into his private little area between the Library and the High Energy Magic * building, with a load of weeds bound for composthood. l The only building on the campus less than a thousand years old. The senior wizards have never bothered much about what the younger, skinnier and more bespectacled wizards get up to in there, treating their endless requests for funding for thaumic particle accelerators and radiation shielding as one treats pleas for more pocket money, and listening with amusement