Jack Vettriano You Can't Come To This Party

Jack Vettriano You Can't Come To This Party
Jack Vettriano Yesterday's DreamsJack Vettriano Working the Lounge
trust anyone who gives me money.'
Buddy glanced at the table. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling that if something was wrong the guitar would do something ‑ play a discord, maybe. But it just purred gently to itself.
'Oh, all right. If it means I get to keep my teef, I'm all for it,' said Cliff.
'OK,' said Buddy.ever seen him before. An' . . . an' . . . well, you know trolls . . . could've been anyone. . .'
'One of them was definitely the Librarian from the University,' said Herbert 'Mr Harpsichord' Shuffle, the Guild's own librarian.
'We can leave him for now,' said Clete.'Great! Great! We can make beautiful music together! At least ‑you boys can, eh?'He pulled out a sheet of paper and a pencil. In Dibbler's eyes, the lion roared.Somewhere high in the Ramtops, Susan rode Binky over a cloudbank.'How could he talk like that?' she said. 'Play around with people's lives, and then talk about duty?'All the lights were on in the Musicians' Guild.A gin bottle played a tattoo on the edge of a glass. Then it rattled briefly on the desktop as Satchelmouth put it down.'Doesn't anyone know who the hells they are?' Mr Clete said, as Satchelmouth managed to grip the glass on the second try. 'Someone must know who they are!''Dunno about the boy,' said Satchelmouth. 'No‑one's

Jack Vettriano Edith and the Kingpin

Jack Vettriano Edith and the KingpinJack Vettriano DriftersJack Vettriano Dressing to Kill
waiting,' said Susan meaningfully.
She clenched her fists.
IMP Y CELYN, she said.
The book And it was vitally important that she save him instead. She could feel the certainty like a ball‑bearing in her mind. It was absolutely imperative. She'd never met him up close, she'd not exchanged a word with him, he was just one person, but it was him she had to save.
Grandfather had said she shouldn't do that sort of thing. What did he know about anything? He'd never lived.
Blert Wheedown made guitars. It was quiet, satisfying work. It took him and Gibbsson, the apprentice, about five days to make a decent instrument, if the wood was available and properly seasoned. He was a conscientious man who'd devoted appeared in front of her. She just managed to catch it before it fluttered to the floor.'Thank you,' she said.She flicked through the pages of his life until she came to the last one, and stared. Then she hastily went back until she found, written neatly down, his death in the Drum. It was all there ‑ all untrue. He hadn't died. The book was lying. Or ‑ and this she knew was a far more accurate way of looking at it ‑ the book was true and reality was lying.What was more important was that from the moment of his death the book was writing music. Page after page had been covered with neat staves. While Susan watched, a clef drew itself in a series of careful loops.What did it want? Why should it save his life?

Lord Frederick Leighton Solitude

Lord Frederick Leighton SolitudeFrancois Boucher Venus Consoling LoveFrancois Boucher The Toilet of VenusGustav Klimt The Virgin
'Was I?'
'Yes.'
'Just thinking. My name . . . it's not right for this music, either.'
'What does it mean in real language?' said Glod.
'Well, all my family are y Celyns,' said Imp, ignoring the insult to an ancient tongue. 'It means "of the holllly ". That's allll that grows , it was very good, very . . . new,' he stared hard at Imp‑cum‑Buddy, 'but there's still something missing . . .'
The dwarf gave Buddy né Imp another penetrating stare.
'Do you know you're shaking all over?' he said. 'Moving around on your seat like you got a pant full of ant.'
'I can't help it,' said Buddy. He wanted to sleep, but a rhythm was bouncing around in Llamedos, you see. Everything else just rots.''I wasn't goin' to say,' said Cliff, 'but Imp sounds a bit like elf to me.''It just means "small shoot",' said Imp. 'You know. Like a bud.''Bud y Celyn?' said Glod. 'Buddy? Worse than Cliff, in my opinion.''I . . . think it sounds right,' said Imp.Glod shrugged, and pulled a handful of coins out of his pocket.'We've still got more'n four dollars,' he said. 'I know what we should do with it, too.'‘We should put it towards Guild membership,' said the new Buddy.Glod stared into the middle distance.'No,' he said. 'We haven't got the sound right. I mean

Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and Blue

Piet Mondrian Composition with Red Yellow and BluePiet Mondrian Composition 2Steve Thoms PoppiesEdvard Munch Puberty 1894
I suppose you know what sound is made by one hand clapping, do you?' said the holy man nastily.
YES. CL. THE OTHER HAND MAKES THE AP.
'Ah‑ha, no, WHY DO THINGS HAVE TO BE THE WAY THEY ARE?
'Well–’
YOU DON'T KNOW, DO YOU?
'Not exactly. The whole thing is meant to be a mystery, see?'
The stranger stared at the holy man for some time, causing the man to feel that his head had become transparent.you're wrong there,' said the holy man, back on firmer ground. He waved a skinny hand. 'No sound, see?'THAT WASN'T A CLAP. THAT WAS JUST A WAVE.'It was a clap. I just wasn't using both hands. What kind of blue, anyway?'YOU JUST WAVED. I DON'T CALL THAT VERY PHILOSOPHICAL. DUCK EGG.The holy man glanced down the mountain. Several people were approaching. They had flowers in their hair and were carrying what looked very much like a bowl of rice.OR POSSIBLY EAU‑DE‑NIL.'Look, my son,' the holy man said hurriedly, 'what exactly is it you want? I haven't got all day.'YES, YOU HAVE. TAKE IT FROM ME.'What do you want?'

Salvador Dali Dali Nude in Contemplation Before the Five Regular Bodies

Salvador Dali Dali Nude in Contemplation Before the Five Regular BodiesSalvador Dali Asummpta Corpuscularia LapislazulinaJohn Singer Sargent A Morning Walk ladyJohn Singer Sargent The Chess Game
go and find one,' said Ridcully. 'You've got nearly half an hour.'
'It's not as easy as that, is it? They don't grow or. trees!'
'Oook?'He paid no attention to the thin rope dangling from the trapdoor far above. Even if he'd thought about it . . . so what? It was just a rope.
Gaspode looked up into the shadows.
There was a growl from somewhere in the darkness. It was no ordinary dog growl. Early man had heard sounds like that in deep caves.'I can't think who to ask!''Oook.' .The Librarian liked being best man. You were allowed to kiss bridesmaids, and they weren't allowed to run away. He was really disappointed when Vimes ignored him. Acting-Constable Cuddy climbed laboriously up the steps inside the Tower of Art, grumbling to himself He knew he couldn't complain. They'd drawn lots because, Carrot said, you shouldn't ask the men to do anything you wouldn't do yourself. And he'd drawn the short straw, harhar, which meant the tallest building. That meant if there was any trouble, he'd miss it.

George Inness Coast Scene

George Inness Coast ScenePierre Auguste Renoir Au bord de la merGustave Caillebotte Paris Street rainy weatherGustave Caillebotte Oarsmen
two-er things come from Slice Mountain! Rocks . . . an' . . . an' . . .' he struck out wildly, 'other sortsa rocks! What kind you, Bauxite?'
'What the hell's going on here?'
The Watch House door had opened. Captain Quirke emerged, sword in hand.
'You two book. 'I'm relieving you of your command.'
'—otherwise I get my goohuloog head kicked in.'
'—otherwise I get my goohuloog head kicked in.'
'Wha—? Are you mad?'
'No, sir, but I'm choosing to believe that you are. Thhorrible troll! You raise your hand right now, you repeat troll oath—''Ah, captain,' said Carrot. 'Can we have a word?''You're in real trouble, Corporal Garret,' snarled Quirke. 'Who do you think you are?''I will do what I told—''Don't wanna be inna—'Wham!'I will do what I told—''Just the man on the spot, captain,' said Carrot cheerfully.'Well, man on the spot, I'm the senior officer here, and you can damn well—''Interesting point,' said Carrot. He produced his black

Edward Hopper Les Pont Royal

Edward Hopper Les Pont RoyalEdward Hopper Les Pont des ArtsEdward Hopper Jo in WyomingEdward Hopper Hills South Truro
and I'm here to collect some arms for my men.'
'Yeah? stuff back out of hock, eh?'
'I nev—'
'And, and then, yeah, we'll get the old thousand swords trick, yeah? Fifty crates stacked up, turns out the bottom forty are full of rocks?' 'I—'
'What's your name, mister?'
'I—'
'You open this door right now!'Where's your authority?''What? But I'm—'The truncheon was knocked away and the hatch thudded into place.' 'Scuse me,' said Corporal Nobbs, pushing past. 'Let me have a go. I've been here before, sort of thing.'He kicked the door with his steel capped boots, known and feared wherever men were on the floor and in no position to fight back.Snap. 'I told you to bug—''Auditors,' said Nobby.There was a moment's silence.'What?''Here to take inventory.''Where's your auth—''Oh? Oh? He says where's my authority?' Nobby leered at the guards. 'Oh? Keeps me hanging around here while his cronies can nip out the back to bring the