Dali Hommage a Cranach

Dali Hommage a CranachDali Flowers for GalaDali Cactus Les BequillesDali Bullfight 1
apparent change came over the ring. After a while Gandalf got up, closed the shutters outside the window, and drew the curtains. The room became dark and silent, though the clack of Sam’s shears, now nearer to the windows, could still be heard faintly from . For a moment the wizard stood looking at the fire; then he stooped and removed the ring to the hearth with the tongs, and at once picked it up. Frodo gasped.It is quite cool,’ said Gandalf. ‘Take it!’ Frodo received it on his shrinking palm: it seemed to have become thicker and Common Tongue is what is said, close enough:One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.It is only two lines of a verse long known in Elven-lore:Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky, Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die, One for the Dark Lord on his dark throneIn the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. One Ring to rule them all. One Ring to find them,heavier than ever.‘Hold it up!’ said Gandalf. ‘And look closely!’As Frodo did so, he now saw fine lines, finer than the finest pen-strokes, running along the ring, outside and inside: lines of fire that seemed to form the letters of a flowing script. They shone piercingly bright, and yet remote, as if out of a great depth. I cannot read the fiery letters,’ said Frodo in a quavering voice.‘No,’ said Gandalf, ‘but I can. The letters are Elvish, of an ancient mode, but the language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here. But this in the

Neiman Silverdome Superbowl

Neiman Silverdome SuperbowlNeiman Secretariat IINeiman Secretariat Big RedNeiman Sax Man
material that I did not include in the original edition, in particular more detailed linguistic information. In the meantime this edition offers this Foreword, an addition to the Prologue, some notes, and an index of the This book is largely concerned with Hobbits, and from its pages a reader may discover much of their character and a little of their history. Further information will also be found in the selection from the Red Book of Westmarch that has already been published, under the title of The Hobbit. That story was derived from the earlier Chapters of the Red Book, composed by Bilbo himself, the first Hobbit to become famous in the world at large, and called by him There and Back Again, since they told of his journey into the East and his return: an adventure which later involved all the Hobbits in the great events of that Age that are here related.names of persons and places. This index is in intention complete in items but not in references, since for the present purpose it has been necessary to reduce its bulk. A complete index, making full use of the material prepared for me by Mrs. N. Smith, belongs rather to the accessory volume.

Lawrence Alma-Tadema Vain Courtship

Lawrence Alma-Tadema Vain CourtshipLawrence Alma-Tadema Unwelcome ConfidencesLawrence Alma-Tadema Unconscious RivalsLawrence Alma-Tadema Unconscious Rivals detail
You've been so brave."

　　　He could not speak. His eyes feasted on her, and he thought that he would like to stand and look at her forever, and that would be enough.
　　　"I didn't want you to die," Harry said. These words came without his volition. "Any of you. I'm sorry ---" He addressed Lupin more than any of them, beseeching him. "--- right after you'd had your son . . . Remus, I'm sorry ---" 　　　"I am sorry too," said Lupin. "Sorry I will never know him . . . but he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. I was trying to make a world in which he could live a happier
"You are nearly there," said James. "Very close. We are . . . so proud of you."

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question had fallen from Harry's lips before he could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all," said Sirius. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"And he will want it to be quick. He wants it over," said Lupin.

Cezanne A Modern Olympia

Cezanne A Modern OlympiaCezanne A Modern Olympia 1873Cezanne A BuffetMaitland Harmony in Red and Violet
boy would not find the diadem...although Dumbledore's puppet had

come much farther than he ever expected...too far...

"My Lord," said a voice, desperate and cracked. He turned: there

was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the darkest corner, ragged and still

bearing the marks of the punishment he had received after the boy's

last escape. One of his eyes remained closed and puffy. "My
"Aren't--aren't you afraid, my Lord that Potter might die at another hand but yours?" asked Malfoy, his voice shaking. "Wouldn't it be...forgive me...more
Lord...please...my son..."

"If your son is dead, Lucius, it is not my fault. He did not come

and join me, like the rest of the Slytherins. Perhaps he has

decided to befriend Harry Potter?" "No--never," whispered Malfoy. "You must hope not."

prudent to call off this battle, enter the castle, and seek him y-yourself

Romanello Among Friends II

Romanello Among Friends IIRomanello Among Friends IWilliams Bastardizing Of The Autonomy Of person Place And ThingWilliams A Perplexity Searching For An Enigma Through The Maze Of An Ambiguity
what had happened to them –

　　　And then the world resolved itself into pain and semidarkness: He was half buried in the wreckage of a corridor that had been subjected to a terrible attack. Cold air told him that the side of the castle had been blown away, and hot stickiness on his cheek told him that he was bleeding copiously. Then he heard a terrible cry that pulled at his insides, that expressed agony of a kind neither flame nor curse could cause, and he stood up, swaying, more frightened than he had been that day, more frightened, perhaps, than he had been in his lif
　　　And Hermione was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and three redheaded men were grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione's hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

Kahlo Tree of Hope

Kahlo Tree of HopeKahlo The Love Embrace of the Universe the Earth Mexico Me Diego and Mr XolotlKahlo The Little DeerKahlo The Dream
There was no means of steering; the dragon could not see where it was going, and Harry knew that if it turned sharply or rolled in midair they would find it impossible to cling onto its broad back. Nevertheless, as they climbed higher and higher, London unfurling below them like a gray-and-green map, Harry's overwhelming feeling was of gratitude for an escape that had seemed impossible. Crouching low over the beast's neck, he clung tight to
　After five minutes or so, Harry lost some of his immediate dread that the dragon was going to throw them off, for it seemed intent on nothing
the metallic scales, and the cool breeze was soothing on his burned and blistered skin, the dragon's wings beating the air like the sails of a windmill. Behind him, whether from delight or fear he could not tell. Ron kept swearing at the top of his voice, and Hermione seemed to be sobbing.

Kroyer Marie en el jardin

Kroyer Marie en el jardinKroyer Marie en el jardin readingKroyer Les RosesKroyer Hip hip hurra
preferred his meat bloody ever since he had been attacked by Greyback. While the knives

sliced behind her, her somewhat irritable expression softened.

"'Arry, you ."

This was not, strictly speaking, true, but Harry decided against reminding her that

Gabrielle had never been in real danger.

"Anyway," Fleur went on, pointing her want at a pot of sauce on the stove, which began

to bubble at once, "Mr. Ollivander leaves for Muriel's zis evening. Zat will make zings

easier. Ze goblin," she scowled a little at the mention of him, "can move downstairs, and

you, Ron, and Dean can take zat room."

"We don't mind sleeping in the living room," said Harry, who knew that Griphook would

thing poorly of having to sleep on the sofa; keeping Griphook happy was essential to

their plans. "Don't worry about us." And when she tried to protest he went on, "We'll be

off your hands soon too, Ron, Hermione, and I. We won't need to be here much longer."

Lippi The Virgin and Child with Sts

Lippi The Virgin and Child with StsFantin-Latour Still Life With Flowers And FruitBanks The Blue Silk ScarfFantin-Latour Venus and Cupid
up his own sleeve –

　　　"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix, "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

　　　Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Harry's limited line of vision.

"What is that?" he heard her say.

"Sword," grunted an out-of-sight Snatcher.

"Give it to me."
"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

"Stupefy!" she screamed, "Stupefy!"

　　　They were no match for her, even thought there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch, as Harry knew, with they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched. Out of the corners of his eyes Harry saw Bellatrix bearing down upon the were"It's not yours, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it." 　　　There was a bang and a flash of red light; Harry knew that the Snatcher had been Stunned. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand.

Gjertson An English Table

Gjertson An English TableAndreotti The Music LessonManet Two Roses On A TableclothAndreotti The Persistent Suitor
tell him we're all with him in spirit," said Lupin, then hesitated slightly, "And I'd tell him to follow his instincts, which are good and nearly always right."

Harry looked at Hermione, whose eyes were full of tears.

"Nearly always right," she repeated.
"At least he's still alive!" muttered Ron. 　　　"We have also heard within the last few hours that Rubeus Hagrid" – all three of them gasped, and so nearly missed the rest of the sentence
　　　"Oh, didn't I tell you?" said Ron in surprise. "Bill told me Lupin's living with Tonks again! And apparently she's getting pretty big too…"

　　　"…and our usual update on those friends of Harry Potter's who are suffering for their allegiance?" Lee was saying.

　　　"Well, as regular listeners will know, several of the more outspoken supporters of Harry Potter have now been imprisoned, including Xenophilius Lovegood, erstwhile editor of The Quibbler," said Lupin.

Rothko Untitled c1956

Rothko Untitled c1956Rothko Untitled c1950Rothko Untitled Blue Yellow Green on Red 1954Rothko Untitled 19692
The sun was coming up: The pure, colorless vastness of the sky stretched over him, indifferent to him and his suffering. Harry sat down in the tent entrance and took a deep breath of clean air. Simply to be alive to watch the sun rise over the sparkling snowy hillside ought to have been the greatest treasure on earth, yet he could not appreciate it: His senses had been spiked by the calamity of losing his want. He looked out over a valley blanketed in snow, distant church bells chiming through the glittering silence.
journey had already given him scars to his chest and forearm to join those on his hand and forehead, but never, until this moment, had he felt himself to be fatally weakened, vulnerable, and naked, as though the best part of his magical
　　　Without realizing it, he was digging his fingers into his arms as if he were trying to resist physical pain. He had spilled his own blood more times than he could count; he had lost all bones in his right arm once; this

Craig Southern Vineyard Hills

Craig Southern Vineyard HillsCraig Provencal LandscapeCraig Pathway to the VillaCraig Old Church
again. "Where have you brought me? Why have you removed me from the house of my forebears?"

　　　"never mind that! How did Snape punish Ginny, Neville, and Luna?" asked Harry urgently.
　　　"And Snape might've though that was a punishment," said Harry, "buy Ginny, Neville, and Luna probably had a good laugh with Hagrid. The Forbidden Forest . . . they've faced plenty worse than the Forbidden Forest, big deal!" 　　　He felt relieved; he had been imagining horrors, the Cruciatus Curse at the very least.
　　　"Professor Snape sent them into the Forbidden Forest, to do some work for the oaf, Hagrid."

"Hagrid's not an oaf!" said Hermione shrilly.

Albert Moore silver painting

Albert Moore silver paintingRene Magritte The Blank Check paintingSir Lawrence Alma-Tadema In the Tepidarium painting
Umbridge's office at Hogwarts: Lace draperies, doilies and dried flowers covered every surface. The walls bore the same ornamental plates, each featuring a highly colored, beribboned kitten, gamboling and frisking with sickening cuteness. The desk was covered with a flouncy, flowered cloth. Behind Mad-eye's eye, a telescopic attachment enabled Umbridge to spy on the workers on the other side of the door. Harry took a look through it and saw that they were all still gathered around the Decoy Detonator. He wrenched the telescope out of the door, leaving a hole behind, pulled the magical eyeball out of it, and placed it in his pocket. The he turned to face the room again, raised his wand, and murmured, "Accio Locker."

　　　Nothing happened, but he had not expected it to; no doubt Umbridge knew all about protective charms and spells. He therefore hurried behind her desk and began pulling open all the drawers. He saw quills

Frida Kahlo Girl with Death Mask painting

Frida Kahlo Girl with Death Mask paintingPino Early Morning paintingJean-Leon Gerome Pygmalion and Galatea painting
Well then," said Harry, keen to discuss his theory, "what about information on Dumbledore? The second page of the letter, for instance. You know this Bathilda my mum mentions, you know who she is?"

"Who?"

"Bathilda Bagshot, the author of –"
　　　"A History of Magic," said Hermione, looking interested. "So your parents knew her? She was an incredible magic historian."
family too. Be pretty interesting to talk to, wouldn't she?" There was a little too much understanding in the smile Hermione gave him for Harry's liking. He took back the letter and the photograph and tucked them inside the pouch around his neck, so as not to have to look at her and give himself away. "I understand why you'd love to talk to her about your mum

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping Gypsy painting

Henri Rousseau The Sleeping Gypsy paintingHenri Rousseau The Dream paintingPaul Cezanne Trees in Park painting
　It was a small and shabby all-night café. A light layer of grease lay on all the Formica-topped tables, but it was at least empty. Harry slipped into a booth first and Ron sat next to him opposite Hermione, who had her back to the entrance and did not like it: She glanced over her shoulder so frequently she appeared to have a twitch. Harry did not like being stationary; walking had given the the Cloak he could feel the last vestiges of Polyjuice leaving him, his hands returning to their usual length and shape. He pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on again.

　　　After a minute or two, Ron said, "You know, we're not far from the Leaky Cauldron here, it's only in Charing Cross –"

"Ron, we can't!" said Hermione at once.

"Not to stay there, but to find out what's going on!"

　　　"We know what's going on! Voldemort's taken over the Ministry, what else do we need to know?"

"Okay, okay, it was just an idea!"

Wassily Kandinsky Dominant Curve painting

Wassily Kandinsky Dominant Curve paintingWassily Kandinsky Several Circles paintingWassily Kandinsky Yellow Red Blue painting
Hagrid, thanks!"

　　　"'S'nothin'," said Hagrid with a wave of a dustbin-lid-sized hand. "An' there's Charlie! Always liked him -- hey! Charlie!"
"Bin meanin' ter write fer ages. How's Norbert doin'?" 　　　"Norbert?" Charlie laughed. "The Norwegian Ridgeback? We call her Norberta now." "Wha -- Norbert's a girl?" "Oh yeah," said Charlie. "How can you tell?" asked Hermione. 　　　"They're a lot more vicious," said Charlie. He looked over his shoulder and dropped his voice. "Wish Dad would hurry up and get here. Mum's getting edgy."
　　　Charlie approached, running his hand slightly ruefully over his new, brutally short haircut. He was shorter than Ron, thickset, with a number of burns and scratches up his muscley arms.

"Hi, Hagrid, how's it going?"

　　　They all looked over at Mrs. Weasley. She was trying to talk to Madame Delacour while glancing repeatedly at the gate.

Thomas Moran Mountain of the Holy Cross painting

Thomas Moran Mountain of the Holy Cross paintingThomas Moran Monterey Coast paintingThomas Moran Grand Canyon painting
We all remember the Royale with cheese, Jules Winnfield's wallet, and "Bring out the gimp!" but Uma Thurman as mob wife Mia Wallace dominated the ad campaign, the DVD cover, and posters on countless college walls across the nation. The nonlinear story telling, motor mouth dialogue, and gratuitous violence mixed with black and pop culture references got Tarantino where he is today. In one of the movie's most memorable scenes, Mia is at a '50s style restaurant called Jack Rabbit Slim's with her husband's go-to guy Vincent Vega (John Travolta). Before they participate in a tripped-out Twist contest, she asks him to roll her a cigarette. Vega, who was told to entertain his boss's wife for the evening, is mesmerized by her long, pale fingers casually holding the cigarette to her crimson mouth. And even after Mia is revived from a drug overdose thanks to a shot of adrenaline to the heart, she keeps her cool by lighting up again.

Henri Fantin-Latour paintings

Henri Fantin-Latour paintings
Horace Vernet paintings
According to some estimates, women are driving off the lots with 52% of all new cars and 53% of used ones and carmakers are reflecting women's many preferences in new models every year. On average, women also spend three weeks longer than men on the car-buying process, displaying either a more thorough, attentive approach to car shopping or just a more thorough, attentive approach to shopping in general.5- Women prefer unfaithful spouses to have meaningless sexA word of warning to all the guys out there contemplating an affair: If you must cheat, keep in mind that whatever you do and whoever you do, don’t fall in love. Women in general have an "easier"’ time (for lack of a better term) coping with your one night of meaningless sex than they do if you've developed emotional feelings for the woman.
The opposite is true for men: meaningless sex is devastating to us. Women
Irene Sheri paintings
attachments -- or who don’t cheat per se but develop emotional bonds with another man -- are less likely to permanently damage their current relationship.

Thomas Kinkade Spirit of Christmas painting

Thomas Kinkade Spirit of Christmas paintingThomas Kinkade San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf paintingThomas Kinkade Paris City of Lights painting
They are going to die," Saeed replied.
It was too late. The villagers, whose heads could be seen bobbing about in the distance, had reached the edge of the underwater shelf. Almost all together, making no visible attempt to save themselves, they dropped beneath the water's surface. In moments, every one of the Ayesha Pilgrims had sunk out of sight.
None of them reappeared. Not a single gasping head or thrashing arm.
Saeed, Osman, Srinivas, the Sarpanch, and even fat Mrs. Qureishi ran into the water, shrieking: "God have mercy; come on, everybody, help."
Human beings in danger of drowning struggle against the water. It is against human nature simply to walk forwards meekly until the sea swallows you up. But Ayesha, Mishal Akhtar and the villagers of Titlipur subsided below sea-level; and were never seen again.

Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia painting

Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia paintingRaphael Saint George and the Dragon paintingPablo Picasso The Old Guitarist painting
"Girl, don't waste breath," Mrs. Roberts broke in. "Just nail me those warlocks. Nail them through the _heart_."
o o o
Walcott Roberts dropped them in Notting Hill at ten. Jumpy was coughing badly and complaining of the pains in the head that had recurred a number of times since his injuries at Shepperton, but when Pamela admitted to being nervous at possessing the only copy of the explosive documents in the plastic briefcase, Jumpy once again insisted on accompanying her to the Brickhall community relations council's offices, where she planned to make photocopies to distribute to a number of trusted friends and colleagues. So it was that at ten--fifteen they were in Pamela's beloved MG, heading east across the city, into the gathering storm. An old, blue Mercedes panel van followed them, as it had followed Walcott's pick-up truck; that is, without being noticed.
Fifteen minutes earlier, a patrol group of seven large young Sikhs jammed into a Vauxhall Cavalier had been driving over the Malaya Crescent canal

Louis Aston Knight A Riverside Cottage painting

Louis Aston Knight A Riverside Cottage paintingAndrea Mantegna Madonna with Sleeping Child paintingJames Jacques Joseph Tissot Journey of the Magi painting
body was never found, I'm still officially missingpresumed-dead, that you haven't gone to court to have me wiped off the slate. In which case it shouldn't take too long to resuscitate me, once I alert Bentine, Milligan and Sellers." (Respectively, their lawyer, their accountant and Chamcha's agent.) Pamela listened dumbly, her posture informing him that she wouldn't be offering any counter-arguments, that whatever he wanted was okay: making amends with body language. "After that," he concluded, "we sell up and you get your." He swept out, making an exit before he got the shakes, and made it to his den just before they hit him. Pamela, downstairs, would be weeping; he had never found crying easy, but he was a champion shaker. And now there was his heart, too: boom badoom doodoodoom.
_To be born again, first you have to die_.

Alone, he all at once remembered that he and Pamela had once disagreed, as

Benjamin Williams Leader Derwentwater painting

Benjamin Williams Leader Derwentwater paintingBenjamin Williams Leader A Fine Day on the Thames paintingAlexei Alexeivich Harlamoff The Flower Girls painting
month, saw the shapes of the girls moving past him, their edges blurred, their images somehow doubled, like shadows superimposed on shadows. The girls began to entertain new notions about Baal, too. In that age it was customary for a whore, on entering her profession, to take the kind of husband who wouldn't give her any trouble -- a mountain, maybe, or a fountain, or a bush -- so that she could adopt, for form's sake, the title of a married woman. At The Curtain, the rule was that all the girls married the Love Spout in the central courtyard, but now a kind of rebellion was brewing, and the day came when the prostitutes went together to the Madam to announce that now that they had begun to think of themselves as the wives of the Prophet they required a better grade of husband than some spurting stone, which was almost idolatrous, after all; and to say that they had decided that they would all become the brides of the bumbler, Baal. At first the Madam tried to talk them out of it, but when

Salvador Dali Enchanted Beach with Three Fluid Graces painting

Salvador Dali Enchanted Beach with Three Fluid Graces paintingJuarez Machado Tango Room paintingJuarez Machado Tango Over The Piano painting
sermonic: the vocabularies of power. _But you bastard you rummage in my drawers and laugh at my stupid poems. The real language problem: how to bend it shape it, how to let it be our freedom, how to repossess its poisoned wells, how to master the river of words of time of blood: about all that you haven't got a clue_. How hard that struggle, how inevitable the defeat. _Nobody's going to elect me to anything. No power-base, no constituency: just the battle with the words_. But he, Jumpy, also had to admit that his envy of Hanif was as much as anything rooted in the other's greater control of the languages of desire. Mishal Sufyan was quite something, an elongated, tubular beauty, but he wouldn't have known how, even if he'd thought of, he'd never have dared. Language is courage: the ability to conceive a thought, to speak it, and by doing so to make it true.
When Pamela Chamcha answered the door he found that her

Claude Monet Mill near Zaandam painting

Claude Monet Mill near Zaandam paintingClaude Monet Meadows at Giverny paintingClaude Monet Lemon-Trees Bordighera painting
This happened: she was walking back to her village, but then she seemed to grow weary all of a sudden, and went off the path to lie in the shade of a tamarind--tree and rest. The moment her eyes closed he was there beside her, dreaming Gibreel in coat and hat, sweltering in the heat. She looked at him but he couldn't say what she saw, wings maybe, haloes, the works. Then he was lying there and finding he could not get up, his limbsand the butterflies clothing her: transformed. She was still nodding, with a rapt expression on her face, receiving a message from somewhere that she called Gibreel. Then she left him lying there and returned to the village to make her entrance. had become heavier than iron bars, it seemed as if his body might be crushed by its own weight into the earth. When she finished looking at him she nodded, gravely, as if he had spoken, and then she took off her scrap of a sari and stretched out beside him, nude. Then in the dream he fell asleep, out cold as if somebody pulled out the plug, and when dreamed himself awake again she was standing in front of him with that loose white hair

Vincent van Gogh Fishing Boats on the Beach at Saints-Maries painting

Vincent van Gogh Fishing Boats on the Beach at Saints-Maries paintingVincent van Gogh Field of Spring Wheat at Sunrise paintingVincent van Gogh Farmers at work painting
innocent and upright as Jamshed Joshi. "I need an hour to think," he had said, and then fallen into an agony of the soul. When Saladin rang back an hour later and heard that Jumpy was turning down Mrs. Onassis's offer for political reasons, he understood that his friend was in training to be a saint, and it was no good trying to pull his leg. "Mrs. Onassis will be broken in the heart for sure," he had concluded, and Jumpy had worriedly replied, "Please tell her it's nothing personal, as a matter of fact personally I admire her a great deal."
We have all known one another too long, Pamela thought as Jumpy left. We can hurt each other with memories two decades old.
o o o
On the subject of mistakes with voices, she thought as she drove much too fast down the M4 that afternoon in the old MG hardtop from which she got