Sargent Venetian Canal Palazzo CornerSargent The Rialto Grand CanalSargent The BathersSargent Spirito Santo Saattera
One of the best ways to approach setting that I ever heard was from a speaker named Fred Gleeck. He is a speaker who holds seminars about sundry topics from how to be a professional speaker to how to market different products. In addition to that, he is a pretty cool guy. If you get a chance to attend one of his seminars, I highly recommend it.
When he begins his seminar, he talks a little about setting. Basically, he says to plan your ideal day or how you would like to live every day. Many people don't like their average day and instead live for the weekend or those days when they can "do what they want." That isn't much of a , is it? Our should be to have every day be a good day - a day to which we look forward. It all begins to defining what that day would look like.
Now, we have to begin by being completely honest about it. Let's face it, many right now would say that they want to relax by the pool and do a bunch of nothing, but that would not last too long. Why? We
Friday, 28 November 2008
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Monet Still Life with Bottles
Monet Still Life with BottlesMonet Still Life with Bottles Carafe Bread and WineVan Gogh View of Arles Flowering OrchardsVan Gogh View from his atelier in The Hague
indignantly, and the redheaded girl trailed fearfully behind here brothers, clutching her father's arm.
"It won't be long, and you'll be going too," Harry told her.
"Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go now!"As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.
The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Albus's voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.
"I won't! I won't be a Slytherin!"
indignantly, and the redheaded girl trailed fearfully behind here brothers, clutching her father's arm.
"It won't be long, and you'll be going too," Harry told her.
"Two years," sniffed Lily. "I want to go now!"As his wand resealed, red sparks flew out of its end. Harry knew that he had succeeded. He picked up the holly and phoenix wand and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.
The commuters stared curiously at the owls as the family wove its way toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Albus's voice drifted back to Harry over the surrounding clamor; his sons had resumed the argument they had started in the car.
"I won't! I won't be a Slytherin!"
Gauguin Still Life with Sunflowers on an Armchair
Gauguin Still Life with Sunflowers on an ArmchairGauguin Still Life with Mig and CarafeGauguin Still Life with Japanese PrintGauguin Still Life with Fan
completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.
"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his wholy body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
Voldemort hissed.
"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."
completely as Voldemort and Harry looked at each other, and began, at the same moment, to circle each other.
"I don't want anyone else to help," Harry said loudly, and in the total silence his voice carried like a trumpet call. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."
"One of us?" jeered Voldemort, and his wholy body was taut and his red eyes stared, a snake that was about to strike. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"
Voldemort hissed.
"Potter doesn't mean that," he said, his red eyes wide. "This isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"
"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good. . . ."
Rothko White over Red2
Rothko White over Red2Rothko White over RedRothko White on Blue 1968Rothko White Cloud over Purple
There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, "Very well. Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!"
"You see what you expect to see, Severus," said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. "Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child." Dumbledore turned a page, and said, without
"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist…"
The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Snape was pacing up and down in front of Dumbledore.
" – mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent – "
There was a long pause, and slowly Snape regained control of himself, mastered his own breathing. At last he said, "Very well. Very well. But never – never tell, Dumbledore! This must be between us! Swear it! I cannot bear…especially Potter's son…I want your word!"
"You see what you expect to see, Severus," said Dumbledore, without raising his eyes from a copy of Transfiguration Today. "Other teachers report that the boy is modest, likable, and reasonably talented. Personally, I find him an engaging child." Dumbledore turned a page, and said, without
"My word, Severus, that I shall never reveal the best of you?" Dumbledore sighed, looking down into Snape's ferocious, anguished face. "If you insist…"
The office dissolved but re-formed instantly. Snape was pacing up and down in front of Dumbledore.
" – mediocre, arrogant as his father, a determined rule-breaker, delighted to find himself famous, attention-seeking and impertinent – "
Wednesday, 26 November 2008
Sheri Blowing Bubbles
Sheri Blowing BubblesSheri Black CatSheri Birthday DreamSheri Birth of a Tune
Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower! Potter belongs in my House!"
Beneath the disbelief and anger, Harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice and affection for Minerva McGonagall gushed up inside him.
dormitories -- " and we'll say they forced her to pres her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm.... He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?" "Only the difference between truth and lied, courage and cowardice," said Professor McGonagall, who had turned pale, "a difference,
"We was told he might come in here!" said Carrow. "I dunno why, do I?"
Professor McGonagall stood up and her beady eyes swept the room. Twice they passed right over the place where Harry and Luna stood.
"We can push it off on the kids," said Amycus, his pig like face suddenly crafty. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there" -- he looked up at the starry ceiling toward the
Why would Harry Potter try to get inside Ravenclaw Tower! Potter belongs in my House!"
Beneath the disbelief and anger, Harry heard a little strain of pride in her voice and affection for Minerva McGonagall gushed up inside him.
dormitories -- " and we'll say they forced her to pres her Mark, and that's why he got a false alarm.... He can punish them. Couple of kids more or less, what's the difference?" "Only the difference between truth and lied, courage and cowardice," said Professor McGonagall, who had turned pale, "a difference,
"We was told he might come in here!" said Carrow. "I dunno why, do I?"
Professor McGonagall stood up and her beady eyes swept the room. Twice they passed right over the place where Harry and Luna stood.
"We can push it off on the kids," said Amycus, his pig like face suddenly crafty. "Yeah, that's what we'll do. We'll say Alecto was ambushed by the kids, them kids up there" -- he looked up at the starry ceiling toward the
Monday, 24 November 2008
Knight Country Women Fishing on a Summer Afternoon
Knight Country Women Fishing on a Summer AfternoonParrish The Country SchoolhouseBreton The Rest of the HaymakersKnight Flowers in Bloom by a River
climbed up onto Ravenclaw's plinth to read them.
"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"
"Which makes you pretty skint, witless," said a cackling voice.
Harry whirled around, slipped off the plinth, and landed on the floor. The sloping-shouldered figure of Alecto Carrow was standing before him, and even as Harry raised his wand, she pressed a stubby forefinger to the skull and snake branded on her forearm.
Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Sarah, a psychiatrist of How to Cope with Pain.
Ever have one of those days when it seems there’s not a minute to catch your breath, let alone meditate or relax? A day when you feel like the proverbial busy bee, with no time to admire the fragrant flowers you’re landing on?
climbed up onto Ravenclaw's plinth to read them.
"'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"
"Which makes you pretty skint, witless," said a cackling voice.
Harry whirled around, slipped off the plinth, and landed on the floor. The sloping-shouldered figure of Alecto Carrow was standing before him, and even as Harry raised his wand, she pressed a stubby forefinger to the skull and snake branded on her forearm.
Editor’s note: This is a guest post from Sarah, a psychiatrist of How to Cope with Pain.
Ever have one of those days when it seems there’s not a minute to catch your breath, let alone meditate or relax? A day when you feel like the proverbial busy bee, with no time to admire the fragrant flowers you’re landing on?
hassam Pont Royal Paris
hassam Pont Royal Parishassam Paris Street Scenehassam Paris Nocturnehassam Notre Dame Cathedral Paris
budget than the White House and the OMB,Given the lack of confidence in the economy and the measures taken by the current administration, as well as Congress, providing more transparency into the budget process and bailouts would be helpful to the national psyche. You can expect Obama to use his online TV channel to further change the course of history.Curing cancer is the Holy Grail of , and by that we mean researchers will try anything to get it. Anything.
So what happens when all of the top medical scientists focus their brain power and research cash on a single crusade? You get some of the most mind-blowing and downright bizarre tumor-killing methods imaginable. Like:Amazing fact number one: A man was strapped to a bed in France, had a three millimeter hole drilled in his head and laser beams were fired into his brain while he was still conscious. Amazing fact number two: he was not James Bond.
Surgeons at Pitie-Salpetriere have clearly decided that months of medication and treatments are for wimps, and have gone all Buck Rogers on tumors instead.
budget than the White House and the OMB,Given the lack of confidence in the economy and the measures taken by the current administration, as well as Congress, providing more transparency into the budget process and bailouts would be helpful to the national psyche. You can expect Obama to use his online TV channel to further change the course of history.Curing cancer is the Holy Grail of , and by that we mean researchers will try anything to get it. Anything.
So what happens when all of the top medical scientists focus their brain power and research cash on a single crusade? You get some of the most mind-blowing and downright bizarre tumor-killing methods imaginable. Like:Amazing fact number one: A man was strapped to a bed in France, had a three millimeter hole drilled in his head and laser beams were fired into his brain while he was still conscious. Amazing fact number two: he was not James Bond.
Surgeons at Pitie-Salpetriere have clearly decided that months of medication and treatments are for wimps, and have gone all Buck Rogers on tumors instead.
Sunday, 23 November 2008
Swatland early morning on the island
Swatland early morning on the islandSwatland Connecticut ShoreSwatland By the SeaSwatland Best Friends
The researchers constructed additions, consisting of dots. For example, 12 dots plus 21 dots equaled 33 dots. Half of the additions were correct; the others were wrong, such as 12 dots plus 21 dots equaled 27 dots. Half of the additions had symmetric dot patterns (symmetric additions), the other half asymmetric patterns (asymmetric additions). These additions were presented briefly, e.g., in one experiment 1800 milliseconds, and student participants without training in mathematics had to decide immediately after the addition disappeared whether it was correct or incorrect.would have been less likely to be judged correct. The results clearly show that participants used symmetry as an indication to correctness, or beauty as truth.The authors have shown that people who do not have
Participants were more likely to judge symmetric additions than asymmetric additions to be correct. As this was also the case when additions in fact were incorrect, the finding cannot be explained by the fact that symmetric additions were easier to count or to estimate: In this case, symmetric additions that were incorrect
The researchers constructed additions, consisting of dots. For example, 12 dots plus 21 dots equaled 33 dots. Half of the additions were correct; the others were wrong, such as 12 dots plus 21 dots equaled 27 dots. Half of the additions had symmetric dot patterns (symmetric additions), the other half asymmetric patterns (asymmetric additions). These additions were presented briefly, e.g., in one experiment 1800 milliseconds, and student participants without training in mathematics had to decide immediately after the addition disappeared whether it was correct or incorrect.would have been less likely to be judged correct. The results clearly show that participants used symmetry as an indication to correctness, or beauty as truth.The authors have shown that people who do not have
Participants were more likely to judge symmetric additions than asymmetric additions to be correct. As this was also the case when additions in fact were incorrect, the finding cannot be explained by the fact that symmetric additions were easier to count or to estimate: In this case, symmetric additions that were incorrect
Friday, 21 November 2008
Vernet Napoleonic battle in the Alps
Vernet Napoleonic battle in the AlpsVernet The Arab Tale-tellerWeeks White Marble Tomb at Suittitor SkiriWeeks Figures in the Courtyard of a Mosque
other wandmakers have made it "So you – you don't think it can be a fairy tale or a myth?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"No," said Ollivander. "Whether it needs to pass by murder, I do not know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to the fact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands."
"Mr. Ollivander," said Harry, "you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn't you?"
Ollivander turned, if possible, even paler. He looked ghostly as he gulped.
"But how – how do you -- ?"
"Never mind how I know it," said Harry, closing his eyes momentarily as his scar burned and he saw, for mere seconds, a vision of the main
other wandmakers have made it "So you – you don't think it can be a fairy tale or a myth?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"No," said Ollivander. "Whether it needs to pass by murder, I do not know. Its history is bloody, but that may be simply due to the fact that it is such a desirable object, and arouses such passions in wizards. Immensely powerful, dangerous in the wrong hands, and an object of incredible fascination to all of us who study the power of wands."
"Mr. Ollivander," said Harry, "you told You-Know-Who that Gregorovitch had the Elder Wand, didn't you?"
Ollivander turned, if possible, even paler. He looked ghostly as he gulped.
"But how – how do you -- ?"
"Never mind how I know it," said Harry, closing his eyes momentarily as his scar burned and he saw, for mere seconds, a vision of the main
Janmot Le Poeme de l'ame - L'Ange et la mere
Janmot Le Poeme de l'ame - L'Ange et la mereGoya Dona Tadea Arias de EnriquezJanmot Le Poeme de l'ame - Souvenirs du cielJanmot Le Poeme de l'ame - Le Toit paternal
experienced the tiniest trickle of relief. The worst had not happened yet: Voldemort was not here. He was, Harry knew, for he was fighting to resist the vision, in some strange, fortresslike place, at the top of a tower. How long it would take Voldemort to get to this place, once he knew that Harry was here, was another matter. . . .
"We've got Potter!" Greyback roared triumphantly. "We've captured Harry Potter!" The gates swung open. "Come on!" said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners
One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them.
"How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't – blimey!"
He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice. "State your purpose!"
experienced the tiniest trickle of relief. The worst had not happened yet: Voldemort was not here. He was, Harry knew, for he was fighting to resist the vision, in some strange, fortresslike place, at the top of a tower. How long it would take Voldemort to get to this place, once he knew that Harry was here, was another matter. . . .
"We've got Potter!" Greyback roared triumphantly. "We've captured Harry Potter!" The gates swung open. "Come on!" said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners
One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them.
"How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't – blimey!"
He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice. "State your purpose!"
Andreotti A Young Girl With Roses
Andreotti A Young Girl With RosesAndreotti An Afternoon TeaAndreotti Cappello Di Paglia PapaveriManet Portrait of Emilie Ambre in the role of Carmen
he's been putting in?" asked Fred. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't
count on him being a long way away if you're planning to take any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"
The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still beaming. Hearing familiar, friendly voices was an extraordinary tonic; Harry had become so used to their isolation he had nearly forgotten that other people were resisting Voldemort. It was like waking from a long sleep.
"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," said Lee. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be ‘Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."
he's been putting in?" asked Fred. "Point is, people, don't get lulled into a false sense of security, thinking he's out of the country. Maybe he is, maybe he isn't, but the fact remains he can move faster than Severus Snape confronted with shampoo when he wants to, so don't
count on him being a long way away if you're planning to take any risks. I never thought I'd hear myself say it, but safety first!"
The radio's dial twirled and the lights behind the tuning panel went out. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still beaming. Hearing familiar, friendly voices was an extraordinary tonic; Harry had become so used to their isolation he had nearly forgotten that other people were resisting Voldemort. It was like waking from a long sleep.
"Thank you very much for those wise words, Rapier," said Lee. "Listeners, that brings us to the end of another Potterwatch. We don't know when it will be possible to broadcast again, but you can be sure we shall be back. Keep twiddling those dials: The next password will be ‘Mad-Eye.' Keep each other safe: Keep faith. Good night."
Wednesday, 19 November 2008
Van Gogh Le Moulin de la Galette
Van Gogh Le Moulin de la GaletteVan Gogh Le Moulin de Blute-FinVan Gogh Le Moulin de la GaletteVan Gogh The Trinquetaille Bridge
No, it doesn't," snapped Hermione, "but I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!"
"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. "Those in favor of going to see Love good –"
some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood's live, anyway? Do either of you know? "Yeah, they're not far from my place," said Ron. "I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find."
His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.
"Outvoted, Harry, sorry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.
"Fine," said Harry, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for
No, it doesn't," snapped Hermione, "but I still think we ought to talk to Mr. Lovegood. A symbol that links Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Godric's Hollow? Harry, I'm sure we ought to know about this!"
"I think we should vote on it," said Ron. "Those in favor of going to see Love good –"
some more Horcruxes, shall we? Where do the Lovegood's live, anyway? Do either of you know? "Yeah, they're not far from my place," said Ron. "I dunno exactly where, but Mum and Dad always point toward the hills whenever they mention them. Shouldn't be hard to find."
His hand flew into the air before Hermione's. Her lips quivered suspiciously as she raised her own.
"Outvoted, Harry, sorry," said Ron, clapping him on the back.
"Fine," said Harry, half amused, half irritated. "Only, once we've seen Lovegood, let's try and look for
Li-Leger Artist's Garden
Li-Leger Artist's GardenLi-Leger Along the Garden WallLi-Leger After the SpaLi-Leger 42 Views of my Garden
He bent and snatched it up, but now the room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing; Hermione was nowhere to be seen and for a moment Harry thought the worst, but then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking Harry hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. Harry raised his wand, but as he did so, his scar seared more painfully, more powerfully than it had done in years.
"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"
As he yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed and seized the dark shape he knew to be Hermione --
He bent and snatched it up, but now the room was full of the snake, its tail thrashing; Hermione was nowhere to be seen and for a moment Harry thought the worst, but then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking Harry hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. Harry raised his wand, but as he did so, his scar seared more painfully, more powerfully than it had done in years.
"He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!"
As he yelled the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos: It smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere as Harry jumped over the bed and seized the dark shape he knew to be Hermione --
Li-Leger Spa Dreams
Li-Leger Spa DreamsLi-Leger Rainforest PoppiesLi-Leger Poppy Tile IILi-Leger Poppy Tile I
They stepped toward the woman and , at once, she turned and hobbled off back the way they had come. Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate. They followed her up the front path through a as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbled for a moment with a key at the front door, then opened it and stepped back to let them pass.
Beneath the Cloak Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry raised his eyebrows; Hermione gave a tiny, nervous nod.
She smelled bad, or perhaps it was her house; Harry wrinkled his nose as they sidled past her and pulled off the Cloak. Now that he was beside her, he realized how tiny she was; bowed down with age, she came barely level with his chest. She closed the door behind
They stepped toward the woman and , at once, she turned and hobbled off back the way they had come. Leading them past several houses, she turned in at a gate. They followed her up the front path through a as overgrown as the one they had just left. She fumbled for a moment with a key at the front door, then opened it and stepped back to let them pass.
Beneath the Cloak Harry and Hermione looked at each other. Harry raised his eyebrows; Hermione gave a tiny, nervous nod.
She smelled bad, or perhaps it was her house; Harry wrinkled his nose as they sidled past her and pulled off the Cloak. Now that he was beside her, he realized how tiny she was; bowed down with age, she came barely level with his chest. She closed the door behind
Tuesday, 18 November 2008
Rivera Girl with Lilies
Rivera Girl with LiliesRivera Flower SellerRivera Flower Festival_ Feast of Santa AnitaRivera Flower Day
particularly."
"I can't see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes." said Harry, who had made this point many times before, but said it again simply to break the nasty silence. "Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would've recognized a Horcrux straightaway."
Harry repeated the argument he kept bringing out in favor of this theory. "Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwart's secrets. I'm telling you, if there was one place Vol—"
Ron yawned pointedly. Repressing a strong urge to throw something at him, Harry plowed on, "I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts."
Hermione sighed.
"But Dumbledore would have found it, Harry!"
particularly."
"I can't see him hiding anything at Borgin and Burkes." said Harry, who had made this point many times before, but said it again simply to break the nasty silence. "Borgin and Burke were experts at Dark objects, they would've recognized a Horcrux straightaway."
Harry repeated the argument he kept bringing out in favor of this theory. "Dumbledore said in front of me that he never assumed he knew all of Hogwart's secrets. I'm telling you, if there was one place Vol—"
Ron yawned pointedly. Repressing a strong urge to throw something at him, Harry plowed on, "I still reckon he might have hidden something at Hogwarts."
Hermione sighed.
"But Dumbledore would have found it, Harry!"
Claude Monet Water Lily Pond painting
Claude Monet Water Lily Pond paintingFrancisco de Goya Nude Maja painting
"With any luck, they'll have got away," said Hermione, clutching her hot mug for comfort. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."
"Blimey, I hope they escaped," said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The tea seemed to fear of a name –" began Harry.
"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end," Ron snapped back. "Just – just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?"
"Respect?" Harry
"With any luck, they'll have got away," said Hermione, clutching her hot mug for comfort. "As long as Mr. Cattermole had his wits about him, he'll have transported Mrs. Cattermole by Side-Along-Apparition and they'll be fleeing the country right now with their children. That's what Harry told her to do."
"Blimey, I hope they escaped," said Ron, leaning back on his pillows. The tea seemed to fear of a name –" began Harry.
"In case you hadn't noticed, mate, calling You-Know-Who by his name didn't do Dumbledore much good in the end," Ron snapped back. "Just – just show You-Know-Who some respect, will you?"
"Respect?" Harry
Sunday, 16 November 2008
Unknown Artist Ford Smith Just Between Us painting
Unknown Artist Ford Smith Just Between Us paintingUnknown Artist Apple Tree with Red Fruit paintingSalvador Dali Sleep painting
That's mental, we haven't got much time. You two find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office – but how do I stop a raining?"
Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slid open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several
"Try Finite Incantatem," said Hermione at once, "that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings – "
"Say it again, slowly – " said Ron, searching his pockets desperately for a quill, but at that moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said, "Level four, Department for the Regulation and
That's mental, we haven't got much time. You two find Umbridge, I'll go and sort out Yaxley's office – but how do I stop a raining?"
Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating Beast, Being, and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office, and Pest Advisory Bureau," and the grilles slid open again, admitting a couple of wizards and several
"Try Finite Incantatem," said Hermione at once, "that should stop the rain if it's a hex or curse; if it doesn't something's gone wrong with an Atmospheric Charm, which will be more difficult to fix, so as an interim measure try Impervius to protect his belongings – "
"Say it again, slowly – " said Ron, searching his pockets desperately for a quill, but at that moment the lift juddered to a halt. A disembodied female voice said, "Level four, Department for the Regulation and
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky The Ninth Wave painting
Ivan Constantinovich Aivazovsky The Ninth Wave paintingFrank Dicksee Romeo and Juliet paintingPierre Auguste Renoir A Girl with a Watering Can painting
Robes," she said under her breath, acknowledging their presence with a nervous nod and continuing to poke around in her beaded bag, "Polyjuice Potion … Invisibiliity Cloak … Decoy Detonators … You should each take a couple just in case … Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Norgat, Extendable Ears …"
They made their way onto the front step with immense caution. They could see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square.
They gulped down their breakfast, then set off upstairs, Kreacher bowing them out and promising to have a steak-and-kidney pie ready for them when they returned.
"Bless him," said Ron fondly, "and when you think I used to fantasize about cutting off his head and sticking it on the wall."
Robes," she said under her breath, acknowledging their presence with a nervous nod and continuing to poke around in her beaded bag, "Polyjuice Potion … Invisibiliity Cloak … Decoy Detonators … You should each take a couple just in case … Puking Pastilles, Nosebleed Norgat, Extendable Ears …"
They made their way onto the front step with immense caution. They could see a couple of puffy-eyed Death Eaters watching the house from across the misty square.
They gulped down their breakfast, then set off upstairs, Kreacher bowing them out and promising to have a steak-and-kidney pie ready for them when they returned.
"Bless him," said Ron fondly, "and when you think I used to fantasize about cutting off his head and sticking it on the wall."
Marc Chagall The Fiddler painting
Marc Chagall The Fiddler paintingPaul Gauguin Arearea paintingGeorges Seurat Sunday Afternoon on the Island of la Grande Jatte painting
The other teachers won't stand for this, McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"
reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students." Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large curcen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.
"Death Eaters," said Harry. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And," Harry went on bitterly, drawing up a chair, "I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban – and that's if they're lucky. I
The other teachers won't stand for this, McGonagall and Flitwick and Sprout all know the truth, they know how Dumbledore died. They won't accept Snape as headmaster. And who are these Carrows?"
reckon they'll stay to try and protect the students." Kreacher came bustling to the table with a large curcen in his hands, and ladled out soup into pristine bowls, whistling between his teeth as he did so.
"Death Eaters," said Harry. "There are pictures of them inside. They were at the top of the tower when Snape killed Dumbledore, so it's all friends together. And," Harry went on bitterly, drawing up a chair, "I can't see that the other teachers have got any choice but to stay. If the Ministry and Voldemort are behind Snape it'll be a choice between staying and teaching, or a nice few years in Azkaban – and that's if they're lucky. I
Winslow Homer The Gulf Stream painting
Winslow Homer The Gulf Stream paintingClaude Monet Venice Twilight paintingPierre Auguste Renoir Two Sisters (On the Terrace) painting
Lupin hesitated.
I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."
"He did," Harry replied, "and Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."
"I thought you'd say that," said Lupin, looking disappointed. "But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."
"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"
Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but graying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer.
"I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."
Lupin hesitated.
I'll understand if you can't confirm this, Harry, but the Order is under the impression that Dumbledore left you a mission."
"He did," Harry replied, "and Ron and Hermione are in on it and they're coming with me."
"I thought you'd say that," said Lupin, looking disappointed. "But I might still be of some use to you. You know what I am and what I can do. I could come with you to provide protection. There would be no need to tell me exactly what you were up to."
"Can you confide in me what the mission is?"
Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but graying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer.
"I can't, Remus, I'm sorry. If Dumbledore didn't tell you I don't think I can."
Wednesday, 12 November 2008
Garmash Sleeping Beauty painting
Garmash Sleeping Beauty paintingMarc Chagall The Three Candles paintingMarc Chagall Paris Through the Window painting
had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then feeling that it would be prudent to remove Krum from Ron's vicinity, offered to show him his seat.
"Your friend is not pleased to see me," said Krum, as they entered the now packed marquee. "Or is he a relative?" he added with a glance at Harry's red curly hair.
"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.
of surprise," said Hermione, though she smiled. She was wearing a floaty, lilac-colored dress with matching high heels; her hair was sleek and shiny. "Your Great-Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur
"Never married, for some reason," said Ron.
"You amaze me," said Hermione.
They were
had no grudge against Krum, shook hands; then feeling that it would be prudent to remove Krum from Ron's vicinity, offered to show him his seat.
"Your friend is not pleased to see me," said Krum, as they entered the now packed marquee. "Or is he a relative?" he added with a glance at Harry's red curly hair.
"Yes, he sounds a real charmer," said Hermione, while Harry roared with laughter.
of surprise," said Hermione, though she smiled. She was wearing a floaty, lilac-colored dress with matching high heels; her hair was sleek and shiny. "Your Great-Aunt Muriel doesn't agree, I just met her upstairs while she was giving Fleur
"Never married, for some reason," said Ron.
"You amaze me," said Hermione.
They were
Jean Fragonard The Bathers painting
Jean Fragonard The Bathers paintingAlexandre Cabanel Nymph and Satyr paintingThomas Gainsborough Mrs Sheridan painting
How do you -?" croaked Doge.
Muriel swigged yet more champagne. The recitation of those old scandals seemed to elate her as much as they horrified Doge. Harry did not know what to think, what to believe. He wanted the truth and yet all Doge did was sit there and bleat feebly that Ariana had been ill. Harry could hardly
"My mother was friendly with old Bathilda Bagshot," said Auntie Muriel happily. "Bathilda described the whole thing to mother while I was listening at the door. A coffin-side brawl. The way Bathilda told it, Aberforth shouted that it was all Albus' fault that Ariana was dead and then punched him in the face. According to Bathilda, Albus did not even defend himself, and that's odd enough in itself. Albus could have destroyed Aberforth in a duel with both hands tied behind his back.
How do you -?" croaked Doge.
Muriel swigged yet more champagne. The recitation of those old scandals seemed to elate her as much as they horrified Doge. Harry did not know what to think, what to believe. He wanted the truth and yet all Doge did was sit there and bleat feebly that Ariana had been ill. Harry could hardly
"My mother was friendly with old Bathilda Bagshot," said Auntie Muriel happily. "Bathilda described the whole thing to mother while I was listening at the door. A coffin-side brawl. The way Bathilda told it, Aberforth shouted that it was all Albus' fault that Ariana was dead and then punched him in the face. According to Bathilda, Albus did not even defend himself, and that's odd enough in itself. Albus could have destroyed Aberforth in a duel with both hands tied behind his back.
Leonardo da Vinci picture of the last supper painting
Leonardo da Vinci picture of the last supper paintingLeonardo da Vinci picture of last supper paintingGustav Klimt lady with fan painting
you believe in the power of your convictions?
It's time to lighten up.
People love attaching themselves to ideas. We can get pretty feisty when one of our beloved beliefs is challenged. We're too busy defending to spend our time analyzing.
Truth has a tendency to get in the way of our beliefs. We like having our rules to live by, our reasons for feeling righteous, and our excuses for ending intellectual exploration. Just as we climb up a ladder, we like counting on certain rungs to hold steady. Thinking about cracks just makes us uneasy.
That approach the top, but it doesn't allow for much examination or lateral growth. Plus, there's always the risk that you'll come crashing down.
Quick quiz: What fills you with more satisfaction--being right or discovering the truth? Of course, the best scenario is discovering that you knew the truth all along. Validation is a huge motivator. That's why we find it more exhilarating to win an argument than to learn more about the other side.
It's kind of like that wholethe journey" concept. The thrill is in the seeking. We've forgotten
you believe in the power of your convictions?
It's time to lighten up.
People love attaching themselves to ideas. We can get pretty feisty when one of our beloved beliefs is challenged. We're too busy defending to spend our time analyzing.
Truth has a tendency to get in the way of our beliefs. We like having our rules to live by, our reasons for feeling righteous, and our excuses for ending intellectual exploration. Just as we climb up a ladder, we like counting on certain rungs to hold steady. Thinking about cracks just makes us uneasy.
That approach the top, but it doesn't allow for much examination or lateral growth. Plus, there's always the risk that you'll come crashing down.
Quick quiz: What fills you with more satisfaction--being right or discovering the truth? Of course, the best scenario is discovering that you knew the truth all along. Validation is a huge motivator. That's why we find it more exhilarating to win an argument than to learn more about the other side.
It's kind of like that wholethe journey" concept. The thrill is in the seeking. We've forgotten
Tuesday, 11 November 2008
Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam detail painting
Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam detail paintingPierre Auguste Renoir The First Outing paintingPierre Auguste Renoir Les baigneuses painting
The silence was shattered as the bedroom door flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped Secrets of the Darkest Art; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.
need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."
"Oh yes," said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction. "we will . . . we're sorry . . ."
With an anguished look at Harry and Ron, Hermione hurried
The silence was shattered as the bedroom door flew open with a wall-shaking crash. Hermione shrieked and dropped Secrets of the Darkest Art; Crookshanks streaked under the bed, hissing indignantly; Ron jumped off the bed, skidded on a discarded Chocolate Frog wrapper, and smacked his head on the opposite wall; and Harry instinctively dived for his wand before realizing that he was looking up at Mrs. Weasley, whose hair was disheveled and whose face was contorted with rage.
need sorting out and I was under the impression that you had agreed to help."
"Oh yes," said Hermione, looking terrified as she leapt to her feet, sending books flying in every direction. "we will . . . we're sorry . . ."
With an anguished look at Harry and Ron, Hermione hurried
Monday, 10 November 2008
Flamenco Dancer paintings
Flamenco Dancer paintings
Franz Marc paintings
hard to feel sorry for Valance, unemployed and down to his last few millions, abandoned by his beloved Mrs. Torture and her pals, relegated to the limbo reserved for fallen favourites, along with busted entrepreneur.-boffins and insiderdealing financiers and renegade ex-ministers; but Chamcha, flying to his father's deathbed, was in so heightened an emotional condition that he managed a valedictory lump in the throat even for wicked Hal. _At whose pool table_, he wondered vaguely, _is Baby playing now?_
Fabian Perez paintings
evidently a hit with the stewardesses. They fussed around his sleeping person, detaching the glass from his fingers and removing it to a place of safety, spreading a blanket over his lower half, and trilling admiringly over his snoring head: "Doesn't he look poochie? Just a little cuteso, I swear!" Chamcha was reminded unexpectedly of the society ladies of Bombay patting him on the head during
Franz Marc paintings
hard to feel sorry for Valance, unemployed and down to his last few millions, abandoned by his beloved Mrs. Torture and her pals, relegated to the limbo reserved for fallen favourites, along with busted entrepreneur.-boffins and insiderdealing financiers and renegade ex-ministers; but Chamcha, flying to his father's deathbed, was in so heightened an emotional condition that he managed a valedictory lump in the throat even for wicked Hal. _At whose pool table_, he wondered vaguely, _is Baby playing now?_
Fabian Perez paintings
evidently a hit with the stewardesses. They fussed around his sleeping person, detaching the glass from his fingers and removing it to a place of safety, spreading a blanket over his lower half, and trilling admiringly over his snoring head: "Doesn't he look poochie? Just a little cuteso, I swear!" Chamcha was reminded unexpectedly of the society ladies of Bombay patting him on the head during
Sunday, 9 November 2008
William Bouguereau Innocence painting
William Bouguereau Innocence paintingBill Brauer The Gold Dress paintingUnknown Artist Pink Floyd Back Catalogue painting
through the metropolis. On this route were mosques in which the pilgrims could sleep without clogging up the streets. Excitement in the city was intense: each day, when the pilgrims set off towards their next resting--place, they were watched by enormous crowds, some sneering and hostile, but many bringing presents of sweetmeats,
Mirza Saeed, worn-out and filthy, was in a state of deep frustration on account of his failure to convince more than a handful of the pilgrims that it was better to put one's trust in reason than in miracles. Miracles had been doing pretty well for them, the Titlipur villagers pointed out, reasonably enough. "Those blasted butterflies," Saeed muttered to the Sarpanch. "Without them, we'd have a chance."
"But they have been with us from the start," the Sarpanch replied with a shrug.
through the metropolis. On this route were mosques in which the pilgrims could sleep without clogging up the streets. Excitement in the city was intense: each day, when the pilgrims set off towards their next resting--place, they were watched by enormous crowds, some sneering and hostile, but many bringing presents of sweetmeats,
Mirza Saeed, worn-out and filthy, was in a state of deep frustration on account of his failure to convince more than a handful of the pilgrims that it was better to put one's trust in reason than in miracles. Miracles had been doing pretty well for them, the Titlipur villagers pointed out, reasonably enough. "Those blasted butterflies," Saeed muttered to the Sarpanch. "Without them, we'd have a chance."
"But they have been with us from the start," the Sarpanch replied with a shrug.
Friday, 7 November 2008
Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam painting
Michelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam paintingThomas Kinkade The Rose Garden paintingCaravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia painting
Him again," Gibreel complained. "What bloody language?"
"He made it up. It's what Kinbote's Zemblan nurse tells him as a child. In _Pale Fire_."
"_Perndirstan_," Farishta repeated. "Sounds like a country: Hell, maybe. I give up, anyway. How are you supposed to read a man who writes in a made-up lingo of his own?"
They were almost back at Allie's flat overlooking Brickhall Fields. "The playwright Strindberg," Chamcha said, absently, as if following some profound train of thought, "after two unhappy s, wedded a famous and lovely twenty-year--old actress called Harriet Bosse. In the _Dream_ she was a great Puck. He wrote for her, too: the part of Eleanora in _Easter_. An 'angel of peace'. The young men went crazy for her, and Strindberg, well, he got so jealous he almost lost his mind. He tried to keep her locked up at
Him again," Gibreel complained. "What bloody language?"
"He made it up. It's what Kinbote's Zemblan nurse tells him as a child. In _Pale Fire_."
"_Perndirstan_," Farishta repeated. "Sounds like a country: Hell, maybe. I give up, anyway. How are you supposed to read a man who writes in a made-up lingo of his own?"
They were almost back at Allie's flat overlooking Brickhall Fields. "The playwright Strindberg," Chamcha said, absently, as if following some profound train of thought, "after two unhappy s, wedded a famous and lovely twenty-year--old actress called Harriet Bosse. In the _Dream_ she was a great Puck. He wrote for her, too: the part of Eleanora in _Easter_. An 'angel of peace'. The young men went crazy for her, and Strindberg, well, he got so jealous he almost lost his mind. He tried to keep her locked up at
Georges Seurat The Island of La Grande Jatte painting
Georges Seurat The Island of La Grande Jatte paintingWilliam Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with Sun paintingWilliam Blake The Descent of Christ painting
"Allie" and a "Gibreel" with whom each could fall in love; and was not Chamcha now imposing on them the requirements of his own troubled and disappointed heart? -- was to be the unwitting, innocent agent of Chamcha's revenge, became even plainer to the plotter, Saladin, when he found that Gibreel, with whom he had arranged to spend an equatorial London afternoon, wanted nothing so much as to describe in Brickhall Fields among schoolgirls and roller-- skating infants and fathers throwing boomerangs and frisbees incompetently at scornful sons, and picked their way through broiling horizontal secretarial flesh; and Gibreel interrupted his erotic rhapsody to mention, madly, that "I sometimes look at these pink people and instead of skin, Spoono, what I see is rotting meat; I smell their putrefaction embarrassing detail the carnal ecstasy of sharing Allie's bed. What manner of people were these, Saladin wondered with distaste, who enjoyed inflicting their intimacies on non-participating others? As Gibreel (with something like relish) described positions, love--bites, the secret vocabularies of desire, they strolled in
"Allie" and a "Gibreel" with whom each could fall in love; and was not Chamcha now imposing on them the requirements of his own troubled and disappointed heart? -- was to be the unwitting, innocent agent of Chamcha's revenge, became even plainer to the plotter, Saladin, when he found that Gibreel, with whom he had arranged to spend an equatorial London afternoon, wanted nothing so much as to describe in Brickhall Fields among schoolgirls and roller-- skating infants and fathers throwing boomerangs and frisbees incompetently at scornful sons, and picked their way through broiling horizontal secretarial flesh; and Gibreel interrupted his erotic rhapsody to mention, madly, that "I sometimes look at these pink people and instead of skin, Spoono, what I see is rotting meat; I smell their putrefaction embarrassing detail the carnal ecstasy of sharing Allie's bed. What manner of people were these, Saladin wondered with distaste, who enjoyed inflicting their intimacies on non-participating others? As Gibreel (with something like relish) described positions, love--bites, the secret vocabularies of desire, they strolled in
Thursday, 6 November 2008
Leroy Neiman Marlin Fishing painting
Leroy Neiman Marlin Fishing paintingLeroy Neiman Mardi Gras Parade paintingLeroy Neiman Lights of Broadway painting
send him in the state of exaltation which was the return he expected from all high art; -- then he insisted to himself that the thrill would soon return; he had had "a bad experience", and needed a little time.
In his den, seated in the Parker-Knoll armchair, surrounded by his familiar objects -- the china pierrots, the mirror in the shape of a cartoonist's heart, Eros holding up the globe of an antique lamp -- he congratulated himself on being the sort of person who had found hatred impossible to sustain for long. Maybe, after all, love was more durable than hate; even if love changed, some shadow of it, some lasting shape, persisted. Towards Pamela, for example, he was now sure he felt nothing but the most altruistic affections. Hatred was perhaps like a finger-print upon the smooth glass of the sensitive soul; a mere grease-mark, which disappeared if left alone. Gibreel? Pooh! He was forgotten; he no longer existed. There; to surrender animosity was to become free
send him in the state of exaltation which was the return he expected from all high art; -- then he insisted to himself that the thrill would soon return; he had had "a bad experience", and needed a little time.
In his den, seated in the Parker-Knoll armchair, surrounded by his familiar objects -- the china pierrots, the mirror in the shape of a cartoonist's heart, Eros holding up the globe of an antique lamp -- he congratulated himself on being the sort of person who had found hatred impossible to sustain for long. Maybe, after all, love was more durable than hate; even if love changed, some shadow of it, some lasting shape, persisted. Towards Pamela, for example, he was now sure he felt nothing but the most altruistic affections. Hatred was perhaps like a finger-print upon the smooth glass of the sensitive soul; a mere grease-mark, which disappeared if left alone. Gibreel? Pooh! He was forgotten; he no longer existed. There; to surrender animosity was to become free
William Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with Sun painting
William Blake The Great Red Dragon and the Woman Clothed with Sun paintingWilliam Blake The Descent of Christ paintingVincent van Gogh Vase with Daisies and Anemones painting
sucked toes, recited the La-ilaha, and then retreated to a high tower of her palace, where news reached her of the destruction of the Al-Lat temple at Taif, and of all the statues of the goddess that were known to exist. She locked herself into her tower room with a collection of ancient books written in scripts which no other human being injahilia could decipher; and for two years and two months she remained there, studying her occult texts in secret, asking that a plate of simple food be left outside her door once a day and that her chamberpot be emptied at the same time. For two years and two months she saw no other living being. Then she entered her husband's bedroom at dawn, dressed in all her finery, with jewels glittering at her wrists, ankles, toes, ears and throat. "Wake up," she commanded, flinging back his curtains. "It's a day for celebrations." He saw that she hadn't aged by so much as a day since he last saw her; if anything, she looked younger than ever, which gave credence to the rumours which suggested that her witchcraft had persuaded time to
sucked toes, recited the La-ilaha, and then retreated to a high tower of her palace, where news reached her of the destruction of the Al-Lat temple at Taif, and of all the statues of the goddess that were known to exist. She locked herself into her tower room with a collection of ancient books written in scripts which no other human being injahilia could decipher; and for two years and two months she remained there, studying her occult texts in secret, asking that a plate of simple food be left outside her door once a day and that her chamberpot be emptied at the same time. For two years and two months she saw no other living being. Then she entered her husband's bedroom at dawn, dressed in all her finery, with jewels glittering at her wrists, ankles, toes, ears and throat. "Wake up," she commanded, flinging back his curtains. "It's a day for celebrations." He saw that she hadn't aged by so much as a day since he last saw her; if anything, she looked younger than ever, which gave credence to the rumours which suggested that her witchcraft had persuaded time to
Tuesday, 4 November 2008
Vincent van Gogh View from Montmartre painting
Vincent van Gogh View from Montmartre paintingVincent van Gogh Tree trunks paintingVincent van Gogh Peach Tree in Bloom painting
which she kept in the freezer and brought out from time to time to show off to friends. Why so many? _Because_ -- no other possible answer -- _they were there_. "Look," she said, stretching out a hand without leaving the bed and picking up, from her bedside table, her newest acquisition, a simple Everest in weathered _To Ali Bibi. We were luck. Not to try again_. What Allie did not tell Gibreel was that the sherpa's prohibition had scared her, convincing her that if she ever set her foot again upon the goddess-mountain, she would surely die, because it is not permitted to mortals to look pine. "A gift from the sherpas of Namche Bazar." Gibreel took it, turned it in his hands. Pemba had offered it to her shyly when they said goodbye, insisting it was from all the sherpas as a group, although it was evident that he'd whittled it himself. It was a detailed model, complete with the ice fall and the Hillary Step that is the last great obstacle on the way to the top, and the route they had taken to the summit was scored deeply into the wood. When Gibreel turned it upside down he found a message, scratched into the base in painstaking English.
which she kept in the freezer and brought out from time to time to show off to friends. Why so many? _Because_ -- no other possible answer -- _they were there_. "Look," she said, stretching out a hand without leaving the bed and picking up, from her bedside table, her newest acquisition, a simple Everest in weathered _To Ali Bibi. We were luck. Not to try again_. What Allie did not tell Gibreel was that the sherpa's prohibition had scared her, convincing her that if she ever set her foot again upon the goddess-mountain, she would surely die, because it is not permitted to mortals to look pine. "A gift from the sherpas of Namche Bazar." Gibreel took it, turned it in his hands. Pemba had offered it to her shyly when they said goodbye, insisting it was from all the sherpas as a group, although it was evident that he'd whittled it himself. It was a detailed model, complete with the ice fall and the Hillary Step that is the last great obstacle on the way to the top, and the route they had taken to the summit was scored deeply into the wood. When Gibreel turned it upside down he found a message, scratched into the base in painstaking English.
Eric Wallis Lilies and Iris painting
Eric Wallis Lilies and Iris paintingEric Wallis Her Own Time paintingEric Wallis Flowers Everywhere painting
rye while shooting pool in a nearby room. Servants, a thunderous Burgundy, more Armagnac, cigars. The self--made man's paradise, Chamcha reflected, and recognized the envy in the thought.
After lunch, a surprise. Valance led him into a room in which there stood two clavichords of great delicacy and lightness. "I make "em," his host confessed. "To relax. Baby wants me to make her a fucking guitar." Hal Valance's talent as a cabinet--maker was undeniable, and somehow at odds with the rest of the man. "My father furiously from his wrecked vehicle he turned out to be even larger than Hal's minder. As this colossus bore down on him, Hal lowered his push-button window and breathed, with a sweet smile: "I strongly advise you to turn around and walk swiftly away; because, sir, if you do not do so within the next fifteen seconds, I am going to have you killed." Other geniuses were famous
rye while shooting pool in a nearby room. Servants, a thunderous Burgundy, more Armagnac, cigars. The self--made man's paradise, Chamcha reflected, and recognized the envy in the thought.
After lunch, a surprise. Valance led him into a room in which there stood two clavichords of great delicacy and lightness. "I make "em," his host confessed. "To relax. Baby wants me to make her a fucking guitar." Hal Valance's talent as a cabinet--maker was undeniable, and somehow at odds with the rest of the man. "My father furiously from his wrecked vehicle he turned out to be even larger than Hal's minder. As this colossus bore down on him, Hal lowered his push-button window and breathed, with a sweet smile: "I strongly advise you to turn around and walk swiftly away; because, sir, if you do not do so within the next fifteen seconds, I am going to have you killed." Other geniuses were famous
Monday, 3 November 2008
Paul Cezanne Jas de Bouffan the Pool painting
Paul Cezanne Jas de Bouffan the Pool paintingPaul Cezanne House of Pere Lacroix paintingPaul Cezanne Flowers in a Blue Vase painting
time, they come into range; the guns babble, and they die, and then the next seventy climb over the bodies of the dead, the guns giggle once again, and the hill of the dead grows higher. Those behind it commence, in their turn, to climb. In the dark doorways of the city there are mothers with covered heads, pushing their beloved sons into the parade, _go, be a martyr, do the needful, die_. "You see how they love me," says the disembodied voice. "No tyranny on earth can withstand the power of this slow, walking love."
"This isn't love," Gibreel, weeping, replies. "It's hate. She has driven them into your arms." The explanation sounds thin, superficial.
"They love me," the Imam's voice says, "because I am water. I am fertility and she is decay. They love me for my habit of smashing clocks. Human beings who turn away from God lose love, and certainty, and also the sense of His boundless time, that encompasses past, present and future; the timeless
time, they come into range; the guns babble, and they die, and then the next seventy climb over the bodies of the dead, the guns giggle once again, and the hill of the dead grows higher. Those behind it commence, in their turn, to climb. In the dark doorways of the city there are mothers with covered heads, pushing their beloved sons into the parade, _go, be a martyr, do the needful, die_. "You see how they love me," says the disembodied voice. "No tyranny on earth can withstand the power of this slow, walking love."
"This isn't love," Gibreel, weeping, replies. "It's hate. She has driven them into your arms." The explanation sounds thin, superficial.
"They love me," the Imam's voice says, "because I am water. I am fertility and she is decay. They love me for my habit of smashing clocks. Human beings who turn away from God lose love, and certainty, and also the sense of His boundless time, that encompasses past, present and future; the timeless
Sunday, 2 November 2008
Edward Hopper Ryder's House painting
Edward Hopper Ryder's House paintingEdward Hopper Railroad Train paintingEdward Hopper New York Street Corner painting
kosher and today you must do the best you can". Jumpythe lurid painting of a bare-breasted myth-woman with several heads and wisps of clouds obscuring her nipples, done in salmon pink, neon-green and gold, and because the rush hadn't started yet Mr. Sufyan noticed he was down in the dumps.
"Hey, Saint Jumpy," he sang out, "why you bringing your bad weather into my place? This country isn't full enough of clouds?"
Jumpy blushed as Sufyan bounced over to him, his little white cap of devotion pinned in place as usual, the moustache-less beard hennaed red after its owner's recent pilgrimage to Mecca. Muhammad Sufyan was a burly, thick-forearmed fellow with a belly on him, as godly and as unfanatic a believer as you could meet, and Joshi thought of himas a sort of elder relative. "Listen, Uncle," he said when the café proprietor was standing over him, "you think I'm a real idiot or what?"
kosher and today you must do the best you can". Jumpythe lurid painting of a bare-breasted myth-woman with several heads and wisps of clouds obscuring her nipples, done in salmon pink, neon-green and gold, and because the rush hadn't started yet Mr. Sufyan noticed he was down in the dumps.
"Hey, Saint Jumpy," he sang out, "why you bringing your bad weather into my place? This country isn't full enough of clouds?"
Jumpy blushed as Sufyan bounced over to him, his little white cap of devotion pinned in place as usual, the moustache-less beard hennaed red after its owner's recent pilgrimage to Mecca. Muhammad Sufyan was a burly, thick-forearmed fellow with a belly on him, as godly and as unfanatic a believer as you could meet, and Joshi thought of himas a sort of elder relative. "Listen, Uncle," he said when the café proprietor was standing over him, "you think I'm a real idiot or what?"
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