Jack Vettriano The Direct Approach

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Death looked up, and looked straight at Susan. His eye sockets flared blue for a moment. Susan tried to press herself into the shadows.
He looked back downAlbert appeared from behind a pillar.
WOULD YOU BE SO GOOD AS TO MAKE ME A CUP OF TEA, PLEASE.
'Yes, Master. Hehe, you sorted him out right enough–’
THANK YOU.
Albert scurried off in the direction of the kitchen.
Once again there was the closest thing there could ever be to silence in the room of lifetimers.
YOU'D BETTER COME OUT. at Mort for a moment, and then at Ysabell, and then back at Susan, and then back down at Mort. And laughed.And turned the hourglass over.And snapped his fingers.Mort vanished, with a small 'pop' of imploding air. So did Ysabell and the others.It was, suddenly, very quiet.Death put the hourglass down, very carefully, on the table and looked at the ceiling for a while. Then he said:ALBERT?

Vincent van Gogh Sunflowers

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you're not . . . a young man,' said Susan, unable to prevent herself.
'No‑one argues,' he snapped. And Susan thought that was probably true. There was some kind of wiry strength in Albert, as if his whole body was a knuckle.
'He can make just 'No, I've got to get back! There'll be terrible trouble if I'm not at school in the morning.'
'There's no Time here except what people brings with 'em. Things just happen one after the other. Binky'll take you right back to the time you left, if you like. But you ought to stop here a while.'
'You said there's a hole and I'm being sucked in. I don't know what that means.'
'You'll feel better after a sleep,' said Albert.about anything,' she said, half to herself, 'but some things he just doesn't understand, and one of them's plumbing.''Right. We had to get a plumber from Ankh‑Morpork, hah, he said he might be able to make it a week next Thursday, and you don't say that kind of thing to the Master,' said Albert. 'I've never seen a bugger work so fast. Then the Master just made him forget. He can make everyone forget, except–’ Albert stopped, and frowned.'Seems I've got to put up with it, ' he said. 'Seems you've a right. I expect you're tired. You can stay here. There's plenty of rooms.'

Franz Marc Blaues Pferd 1

Franz Marc Blaues Pferd 1Franz Marc AffenfriesGarmash Sleeping BeautyMarc Chagall The Wedding Candles
of you will . . . Where's Lance-Constable Angua?' will personally—' He hesitated. He'd never been cruel to an animal in his life.
'I'll turn the matter over to Corporal Nobbs,' he said.
'That's what I to say: do this, do that . . . that was just something human, but this . . . this was like being a god.
He pulled the gonne into position, clicked a rack of six bullets into position, and sighted at random on a light. And then on another one. And another one.like,' said Gaspode bitterly. 'Incentive.'He presssed his blotchy nose to the ground. It was all show, anyway. Angua's scent hung in the air like a rainbow.'You can really talk?' said Carrot.Gaspode rolled his eyes.' 'Course not,' he said. The figure had reached the top of the tower.Lamps and candles were alight all over the city. It was spread out below him. Ten thousand little earthbound stars . . . and he could turn off any one he wanted, just like that. It was like being a god.It was amazing how sounds were so audible up here. It was like being a god. He could hear the howl of dogs, the sound of voices. Occasionally one would be louder than the rest, rising up into the night sky.This was power. The power he had below, the power

Leroy Neiman 18th at Harbourtown

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his hand.
'I'm glad you're out of it,' she said.

Corporal Nobbs darted into the Watch House and slammed the door behind him.
'Well?' said Carrot.
'It's not good,' said Carrot had been staring at the wall. Now he produced a small, battered black book from his pocket, and started to thumb through the pages.
'Tell me,' he said, in a slightly distant voice, 'has there been an irretrievable breakdown of law and order?'
'Yeah. For about five hundred years,' said Colon. 'Irretrievable breaNobby. 'They say the trolls are planning to march to the Palace to get Coalface out. There's gangs of dwarfs and trolls wandering around looking for trouble. And beggars. Lettice was very popular. And there's a lot of Guild people out there, too. The city,' he said, importantly, 'is def'nitely a keg of No.1 Powder.''How do you like the idea of camping out on the open plain?' said Colon.'What's that got to do with it?''If anyone puts a match to anything tonight, it's goodbye Ankh,' said the sergeant morosely. 'Usually we can shut the city gates, right? But there's hardly more'n a few feet of water in the river.''You flood the city just to put out fires?' said Angua.'Yep.''Another thing,' said Nobby. 'People threw stuff at me!'

Pablo Picasso Three Women at the Spring

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stared at the scrawled notes.
I'm on the path, he thought. I don't have to know where it leads. I just have to follow. There's always a crime, if you look hard enough. And the Assassins are in this somewhere.
Follow every lead. Check every detail. Chip, chip away.
I'm hungry.
He staggered to his He scrambled forward on hands and knees and pulled himself upright alongside the window.
Images flashed through his mind. The dead dwarf. The hole in the wall . . .
A thought seemed to start in the small of his back and spread upwards to his brain: These were lath and plaster walls, and old ones at that; you could push a finger through themfeet and looked at his face in the cracked mirror over the basin.Events of the previous day filtered through the dogged gauze of memory. Central to all of them was the face of Lord Vetinari. Vimes grew angry just thinking about that. The cool way he'd told Vimes that he mustn't take an interest in the theft from—Vimes stared at his reflection——something stung his ear and smashed the glass.Vimes stared at the hole in the plaster, surrounded by the remains of a mirror frame. Around him, the mirror glass tinkled to the floor.Vimes stood stock still for a long moment.Then his legs, reaching the conclusion that his brain was somewhere else, threw the rest of him to the floor.There was another tinkle and a half bottle of Bear-hugger's exploded on the desk. Vines couldn't even remember buying it.

Edward Hopper Excursion into Philosophy

Edward Hopper Excursion into PhilosophyEdward Hopper Drug StoreEdward Hopper Conference at Night
can you be so sure?'
'The guards on the roofs in Filigree Street say no-one came in or went out, sir.'
And who's watching them?'
'They're watching one another, sir.'
'Very well. Listen carefully. I want the mess cleaned up. If anyone needs to go outside the building, I want everyone watched. And then how I've always told you how observation is important?'
'Yes, captain. I have always paid careful attention to your remarks on the subject.'
'So what did you observe?'
'Someone'd smashed a mirror. Everyone knows Assassins likethe Guild is going to be searched from top to bottom, do you understand?''What for, doctor?' said a junior lecturer in poisons.'For . . . anything that is hidden. If you find anything and you don't know what it is, send for a council member immediately. And don't touch it.''But doctor, all sorts of things are hidden—''This will be different, do you understand?''No, sir.''Good. And no-one is to speak to the wretched Watch about this. You, boy . . . bring me my hat.' Dr Cruces sighed. 'I suppose I shall have to go and tell the Patrician.''Hard luck, sir.' The captain didn't say anything until they were crossing the Brass Bridge.'Now then, Corporal Carrot,' he said, 'you know

Frederic Edwin Church The Icebergs

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Edward spent a lot of time among history books as well. The Assassins' Guild was an association of gentlemen of breeding, and people like that regard the whole of recorded history as a kind of stock book. There were a great many books in the Guild library, and a whole portrait gallery of kings and queensEdward d'Eath came to know their aristocratic faces better they are . . . well . . . human beings. He was also spiralling inwards, as tends to happen in cases like this.
He'd had no plan. He'd just retreated, as people do when they feel under attack, to a more defensible position, i.e. the past, and then something happened which had the same effect on Edward as finding a plesiosaur in his goldfish pond would on a student of ancient reptiles.
He'd stepped out blinking in the sunlight one hot afternoon, after a day spent in the company of departed glory, and had seen the face of the past strolling by, nodding amiably to people.than he did his own. He spent his lunch hours there.It was said later that he came under bad influences at this stage. But the secret of the history of Edward d'Eath was that he came under no outside influences at all, unless you count all those dead kings. He just came under the influence of himself.That's where people get it wrong. Individuals aren't naturally paid-up members of the human race, except biologically. They need to be bounced around by the Brownian motion of society, which is a mechanism by which human beings constantly remind one another that