Georgia O'Keeffe paintings

Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Gustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger paintings
Guillaume Seignac paintings
Not very, I’m afraid, nanny,’
‘Ah, cricketing all day long, I expect, like your brother. He found time to study, too, though. He’s not been here since Christmas, but he’ll be here for the Agricultural, I expect. Did you see this piece about Julia in the paper? She brought it down for me. Not that it’s nearly good enough of her, but what it says is very nice. “The lovely daughter whom Lady Marchmain is bringing out this season...witty as well as ornamental...the most popular débutante”, well that’s no more than the truth, though it was a shame to cut her hair; such a lovely head of hair she had, just like her Ladyship’s. I said to Father Phipps it’s not natural. He said: “Nuns do it,” and I said, “Well, surely, father, you aren’t going to make a nun out of Lady Julia? The very idea!”’ Sebastian and the

Flamenco Dancer paintings

Flamenco Dancer paintings
Franz Marc paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
regiment taking over from us.
‘That’s bad,’ I said.
‘It’s a disgrace. See everything there is burned before you leave camp.’ ‘Very good, sir. Sergeant-major, send over to the carrier-platoon and tell Captain Brown that the C.O. wants this ditch cleared up.’
I wondered whether the colonel would take this rebuff; so did he. He stood a moment irresolutely prodding the muck in the ditch, then he turned on his heel and strode away. ‘You shouldn’t do it, sir, ‘ said the sergeant-major, who had been my guide and prop since I joined the company. ‘You shouldn’t really.’
‘That wasn’t our rubbish.’
‘Maybe not, sir, but you know how it is. If you get on the wrong side of senior officers they take it out of you other ways.’
As we marched past the madhouse, two or three elderly inmates gibbered

Mark Rothko paintings

Mark Rothko paintings
Montague Dawson paintings
Mary Cassatt paintings
What could it mean? Why had the book gone? He was quite bewildered. “Jumping Golliwogs” cried Tom at last, “I must tell the Pater.” He left the room with the intention of going to tell his father about the mysterious disappearance of the old volume; perhaps his father had it, or—Hark! what was that! the rustling of stiff paper was audible. He was now quite close to Smith, the butler’s room. The door was open so he looked in. There he saw Smith leaning over the old volume deeply engrossed. Suddenly he got up and walked stealthily to the door. Then he walked off in the direction of the room with the carving. When he got there he pressed the letter “U” and immediately a little trap door opened which was about 17 by 13 inches. Into this crept Smith followed by Tom. The two crept along a passage, and stopped at the sight of a great granite door. “Smith! what does this mean?” cried Tom putting his hand on Smith’s collar. Smith fairly staggered when he saw Tom; in

Thomas Kinkade Paris City of Lights painting

Thomas Kinkade Paris City of Lights paintingThomas Kinkade New Horizons paintingThomas Kinkade Mountain Paradise painting
solemnity to the occasion. They sat round the table. Bakic stood in the background. His place as interpreter was taken by a young communist of undefined position whom Major Gordon had met once or twice before at headquarters. He spoke excellent English.
“The General wishes to know why you went to visit the Jews today.”
“I was acting on orders from my headquarters.”
“The General does not understand how the Jews are the concern of the Military Mission.”
Major Gordon attempted an explanation of the aims and organization of U.N.R.R.A. He did not know a great deal about them and had no great respect for the members he had met, but he did his best. General and Commissar conferred. Then: “The Commissar says if those measures will take place after the war, what are they doing now?”
Major Gordon described the need for planning. U.N.R.R.A. must know what quantities of seed corn, bridge-building materials, rolling stock and so on were needed to put

Rembrandt The Polish Rider painting

Rembrandt The Polish Rider paintingRembrandt The Sacrifice of Abraham paintingJohn Singer Sargent A Morning Walk painting
you see my position at the Ministry is far from secure. There is jealousy everywhere. Imagine it, that anyone should be jealous of me. But in the New Neutralia all are so eager to work. They would snap up my little post greedily. Dr. Arturo Fe would like it.”
“Surely not? He seems fully employed already.” the circuitous journey to Simona, sympathy had sprung up between Scott-King and the International Secretary.
Bells deliciously chimed in the sunlit towers of twenty shadowy churches.
At length Scott-King said: “You know I suspect that you and I are the only members of our party who have read Bellorius.”
“My own knowledge of him is slight
“That man collects government posts as in the old days churchmen collected benefices. He has a dozen already and he covets mine. That is why it is such a triumph to have brought him here. If the celebration

Guido Reni Girl with a Rose painting

Guido Reni Girl with a Rose paintingGuido Reni Angel of the Annunciation paintingFrancois Boucher Venus Consoling Love painting
Celebration Association request the honour of Professor Scott-King’s assistance at the public acts to be held at Simona on July 28th–August 5th, 1946. R.S.V.P. His Excellency Dr. Bogdan Antonic, International Secretary of the Association, Simona University, Neutralia.
The letter was signed by the Neutralian Ambassador to the Court of St. James’s. It announced that a number of distinguished scholars were assembling from all over the world to do honour to the illustrious Neutralian political thinker Bellorius and delicately intimated that the trip would be without expense on the part of the guests.
Scott-King’s first thought on reading the communication was that he was the victim of a hoax. He looked round the table expecting to surprise a glance of complicity between his colleagues, but they appeared to be busy with their own concerns. Second thoughts convinced him that this sumptuous embossing and engraving was beyond their

Henri Rousseau The Football Players painting

Henri Rousseau The Football Players paintingPaul Cezanne Vase with Flowers paintingPaul Cezanne The Black Clock painting
reform; we had the right to come to her house unexpectedly, to shout upstairs for the corkscrew, to join her table at supper. The question of intrusion did not arise. It was simply that as far as she was concerned we had no separate or individual existence. It was, as I say, a faultless and highly provocative attitude. I found that in the next few days a surprising amount of my time, which, anyway, was lying heavy on me, was occupied in considering how this attitude, with regard to myself, could be altered.
My first move was to ask her and Roger to luncheon. I was confident that none of their other friends—none of those, that is to say, from whom I wished to dissociate myself—would have done such a thing. I did it formally, some days ahead, by letter to Lucy. All this, I knew, would come as a surprise to Roger. He telephoned me to ask, “What’s all this Lucy tells me about your asking us to luncheon?”
“Can you come?”
“Yes, I suppose so. But what’s it all about?”
“It’s not ‘about’ anything. I just want you to lunch with me.”
“Why?”

Gustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil) painting

Gustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil) paintingGustav Klimt Hygieia (II) paintingGustav Klimt Goldfish (detail) painting
assume when they feel they have said something elaborately polite; a smile normally kept for his women writers; the word “climacteric” had clearly upset him.
“I mean, I am in danger of becoming purely a technical expert. Take my father —” Mr. Benwell gave a deferential grunt and quickly changed his expression to one of gravity suitable to the mention of someone recently dead. “He spent his wholeperfecting his technique. It seems to me I am in danger of becoming mechanical, turning out year after year the kind of book I know I can write well. I feel I have got as good as I ever can be at this particular sort of writing. I need new worlds to conquer.” I added this last remark in compassion for Mr. Benwell, whose gravity had deepened to genuine concern. I believed he would feel the easier for a little facetiousness—erroneously, for Mr. Benwell had suffered similar, too serious conversations with other writers than me.
“You’ve not been poetry in Morocco?”
“No, no.”

George Inness The Delaware Water Gap painting

George Inness The Delaware Water Gap paintingPierre Auguste Renoir Au bord de la mer paintingLorenzo Lotto Venus and Cupid painting
woman with a cause, and before the end of the hunting season she had triumphed. Mr. Loveday achieved his liberty.
The doctor at the asylum showed reluctance but no real opposition. Sir Roderick wrote to the Home Office. The necessary papers were signed, and at last the day came when Mr. Loveday took leave of the where he had spent such long and useful years.
His departure was marked by some ceremony. Angela and Sir Roderick Lane-Foscote sat with the doctors on the stage of the gymnasium. Below them were assembled everyone in the institution who was thought to be stable enough to endure the excitement.
Lord Moping, with a few suitable expressions of regret, presented Mr. Loveday on behalf of the lunatics with a gold cigarette case; those who supposed themselves to be emperors showered him with decorations and titles of honour. The warders gave him a silver watch and many of the non-paying inmates were in tears on the day of the
The doctor made the main speech of the afternoon. “Remember,” he remarked, “that you leave behind you nothing but our warmest good wishes. You are bound to us by ties that none will forget. Time will only deepen our sense of debt to you. If at any time

Gustav Klimt Sea Serpents painting

Gustav Klimt Sea Serpents paintingVincent van Gogh Self Portrait paintingVincent van Gogh Sunflowers painting
stores of London and was shown to the livestock department. “I want a puppy.”
“Yes, sir, any particular sort?”
“One that will live a long time. Eighty-one years, or twenty-seven at the least.”
The man looked doubtful. “We have some fine health puppies of course,” he admitted, “but none of them carry a guarantee. Now if it was longevity you wanted, might I recommend a tortoise? They live to an extraordinary age and are very safe in traffic.”
“No, it must be a pup.”
“Or a parrot?”
“No, no, a pup. I would prefer one named Hector.”
They walked together past monkeys and kittens and cockatoos to the dog department which, even at this early hour, had attracted a small congregation of rapt worshippers. There were puppies of all varieties in wire-fronted kennels, ears cocked, tails wagging, noisily soliciting attention. Rather wildly, Hector selected a poodle and, as the sman disappeared to fetch him his change, he leant down for a moment’s intense communion with the beast of his choice. He gazed deep into the sharp little face, avoided a sudden snap and said

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may painting

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may paintingLeonardo da Vinci Leda and the Swan paintingLeonardo da Vinci Head of Christ painting
Then who should I meet but the young man who had steak and onions on the first morning and is called Robert and said I have been trying to meet you again all the voyage. Then I bitched him a bit goodness how Decent.
Poor Mum got taken up by Bill and he told her all about his wife and how she had disillusioned him with the foreigner so tomorrow we reach Port Said d.v. which is latin in case you didn’t know meaning God Willing and all go up the nile and to Cairo for a week.
Will send P.C. of Sphinx.
XXXXXX
POSTCARD
This is the Sphinx. Goodness how Sad.
POSTCARD
This is temple of someone. Darling I cant wait to tell you I’m engaged to Arthur. Arthur is the one I thought was a pansy. Bertie thinks egyptian art is v. inartistic.
POSTCARD
This is Tutankhamens v. famous Tomb. Bertie says it is vulgar and is engaged to

Edgar Degas Absinthe painting

Edgar Degas Absinthe paintingFrida Kahlo The Broken Column paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait painting
times for Parliament in the Conservative interest. Mr. Watch’s brother, Captain Peter Watch of the Coldstream Guards, acted as best man. The bride wore a veil of old Brussels lace lent by her grandmother. In accordance with the new for taking in Britain, the bride and bridegroom are spending a patriotic honeymoon in the West of England.”
And when that has been said there is really very little that need be added.
Angela was twenty-five, pretty, good-natured, lively, intelligent and popular—just the sort of girl, in fact, who, for some mysterious cause deep-rooted in Anglo-Saxon psychology, finds it most difficult to get satisfactorily married. During the last seven years she had done everything which it is customary for girls of her sort to do. In London she had danced on an average four evenings a week, for the first three years at private houses, for the last four at restaurants and night clubs; in the country she had been slightly patronizing to the neighbours and had taken parties to the hunt ball which she hoped would shock

Horace Vernet The Lion Hunt painting

Horace Vernet The Lion Hunt paintingJean Auguste Dominique Ingres The Grande Odalisque paintingPeter Paul Rubens The Judgment of Paris painting
cannot explain but it seems to me as though the being who survives, I must admit, with very great clearness in my memory, was born of a dream, drank and died in a dream.
The Reflection: And loved in a dream, too? that you are trying to dismiss as a shadow a being in every way as real as yourself. But in your present mood it would be useless to persuade you. Tell me instead, what was the secret which you learned, asleep there in the grass?
Adam: I found no secret—only a little bodily strength.
Reflection: Is the balance of and death so easily swayed?
Adam: There you confound me, for it seems to me that that love of his alone does partake of reality. But perhaps I am merely yielding to the intensity of the memory. Indeed I think that I am. For the rest that being had no more substance than you yourself, whom the passage of a bird can dissolve.
Reflection: That is a sorry conclusion, for I am afraid

Albert Bierstadt Yosemite Valley painting

Albert Bierstadt Yosemite Valley paintingClaude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil paintingClaude Monet Monet The Luncheon painting
Stoker huffed. "He's out of his head."
I smiled at tearful Hedwig. "Please tell Dr. Sear that in my opinion his attitude is certainly sentimental, and that his cancer may very well have damaged his mind as well as his eyesight. But tell him also that he's a Candidate for Graduation, and congratulate him for me on being a father."
"Only a Candidate?" Stoker jeered.
I nodded. "Like yourself."
This retort so infuriated Stoker that Anastasia, still holding Triple-T, was obliged to step between us and command him to behave himself. Taking Mrs. Sear's arm I slipped away to the viewing stand, and added en route: "Of course, some Candidates are much closer to Commencement than others. Give your husband my love, Mrs. Sear."
"Goat-Boy!" It was Dr. Eierkopf calling, from the dignitaries' bleachers. There also I saw Chancellor and Mrs. Rexford, holding hands; the brothers Hector, amply coated; and Leonid Alexandrov, fidgeting as usual and looking restlessly to westward (though he could

childe hassam Wayside Inn Sudbury Massachusetts painting

childe hassam Wayside Inn Sudbury Massachusetts paintingEdgar Degas Four Dancers paintingEdgar Degas dance class painting
Stoker meanwhile, hurtling cornerwards, into a second motorcade -- this one in perfect file, upon white engines -- which had wheeled round from the Mall. The confusion obliged both parties to halt.
"Oh dear," Anastasia said, and blushed. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Rexford."
An expert driver, she would thread us out of the traffic-jam and away from the scene. But I directed her to take me to the Chancellor, whom Stoker, springing from his vehicle, had found shrill speech enough to mock.
"Wife-beater!" I heard him jeer, among other things. The Chancellor's white-helmeted escorts drew polished pistols, and two or three professor-generals came running from the Belly-port, which I noticed had reclosed. Rexford, though he reddened at the taunt, seemed in control of himself again, and showed little sign of last evening's

Leonardo da Vinci St John in the Wilderness painting

Leonardo da Vinci St John in the Wilderness paintingLeonardo da Vinci Madonna with the Yarnwinder paintingLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra Benci painting
serve in that parlous hour to pacify the crowd, for whom difficult truths were best expressed in simple mottoes, simple rites. I surrendered my stick.
"Thank you," Bray said. "Please kneel." The crowd hushed; likewise my spirit, strait-waistcoated in contradictions of which, not impossibly, one tap of the stick might free me at last. I knelt.
"This is how it must be," Bray said, and smote me flat. Over me then, as I fought for breath (the blow had struck me full in the back, else my head would have been crushed), he declared through the public loudspeakers: "George Giles the Goat-Boy, cause and embodiment of all our ills: you are hereby denied admission to the student body. No probation; no reinstatement; no clemency. You shall be deported to the goat-barns at once, forever." The crowd shouted approval. Still stunned, I was snatched up. "Tomorrow morning," Bray announced to them, "I go to Founder's Hill to work certain miracles on the occasion of the scheduled Shafting, which you are all invited to witness. Now I shall retire into the Belly of WESCAC to meditate, but presently I shall come forth, ascend to the Belfry, and beget a son." He paused. "The Goat-Boy is yours."

Salvador Dali Sleep

Salvador Dali SleepPierrot and GuitarSalvador Dali Leda Atomica
what he is not -- or flunkèdly pretend to be. And even WESCAC may be wrong! What is WESCAC, that it should be exempt from error? Why might it not protect and affirm the GILES -- truly, falsely, or mistakenly -- or confuse a false GILES with the true, or choose by confusion, preference, or error a GILES who is not a Grand Tutor over a Grand Tutor who is not the GILES, or make any other of the varieties of wrong judgments you can imagine, or no judgment at all? Go to the Belly door and wait! See who emerges; hear what he says -- then believe and do as you will. Very possibly you will be mistaken, wherefore it is written in the Founder's Scroll:Many take the Finals, but few Commence. Dear, dear classmates: the flunkèd must always outnumber the passed! A-plus."
"A-plus!" many of his auditors responded, and though Bray's elucidation of their plight perhaps dismayed them, they obediently dispersed, the journalists excepted, who lingered to see what might happen next. Bray raised my mother from her knees, listening politely, even with interest, to her prattle of the passèd grandchild she believed to be in Anastasia's womb.

childe hassam paintings

childe hassam paintings
Cheri Blum paintings
Camille Pissarro paintings
and more than he himself had ever been before, thanks to the less-than-perfect effectiveness of the eradicator; for though he'd not decided yet whether to rescue Max and perish in his stead or defect in truth to New Tammany, he most certainly would use no force on my keeper, who loved him as a son; nor would he be likely to try suicide again, now he saw its selfishness.
"Sentimental mid-percentilism. Petty-Informationalist logic-chopping." But X's voice was thick. "If Leonid Andreich -- was that the name you mentioned? -- if he failed at suicide it's because a perfect Student-Unionist has no self. Let the Union order his suicide and see whether he fails!"
"You call him a perfect Student-Unionist," I pointed out. "You must be very proud of him."
"Bah." He turned away. "He'll never learn."
"But youwant him to! You're ambitious for him, like any father!"
I thought I detected a color in what I could see of his face. In

Pieter de Hooch paintings

Pieter de Hooch paintings
Pietro Perugino paintings
Peter Paul Rubens paintings
incidents at the Power Lines, Classmate X had arrived on Great Mall, presumably to sever the remaining diplomatic ties between East and West Campus. I half expected Stoker to wait for me, but as I entered the lobby of Tower Hall I saw him drive off towards a squadron of his troopers roaring up in ragged files from the direction of Main Gate.
The elevator-guard frowned at my detention-suit, consulted an empty clipboard, and forbade me the Belfry-lift.
"Don't you remember me?" I asked pleasantly.
"I remember you, all right." His tone was not cordial. "But your name ain't on my list any more. In fact, there ain't any list, since you flunked up the college. Nobody's allowed up there."
I asked where Dr. Eierkopf was, in that case -- for I'd assumed Stoker was lying to me -- and was told that he was indeed still in the Belfry -- or at least his skeleton must be: the lift had not been summoned since Croaker's desertion, the guard said (not without grim satisfaction); as nobody was allowed access to the Clockworks without the Chancellor's

Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings

Bartolome Esteban Murillo paintings
Berthe Morisot paintings
childe hassam paintings
But I could not bear resorting to my old lope. For all the shocks that ran from hip to toe, I could flex the muscles once again, and was determined they must bear my weight from that hour on.
"Give me a hand, George."
"Yes,sir ." George Herrold readily put down his sweeper and supported me under one arm. "Y'all want to lay down," he scolded cheerfully, "you do it in the dormitory where you s'posed to, not in my stacks."
"I will from now on," I said.
His face still anxious, Max braced me from the other side, and I stood off from the table. The most difficult thing was to straighten my knees, which fourteen years of my former gait had crooked. But it was they, and my inner thighs, that Tom had struck, and I choose still to believe his blow was like a hammer's on a rusted hinge, to free the action. In any case I got them straight.
"You can let go now."

Fabian Perez Sophia painting

Fabian Perez Sophia paintingFabian Perez Man in Black Suit paintingFabian Perez Lucy painting
towers in the widened gap between East and West Campus. The Nikolayans, thinking themselves menaced by this activity, had actually sent short-order EAT-waves crackling to the very Boundary (at least EASCAC had transmitted them; whether at its own discretion or on orders from the Student-Unionist First Secretary was not clear), which WESCAC had detected and duly reported. Ordinarily in such circumstances no general alarm would have been sounded until the enemy's hostile intentions were unmistakable; but Chancellor Rexford being unavailable for consultation (he was in fact drafting the first of his "Open-Book Test" bills, and refused to be disturbed), the New Tammany professor-generals had blown the whistle. They may or may not have ordered a counter-attack as well: they themselves denied it, but the Nikolayans claimed -- predictably, yet perhaps not incorrectly -- that New Tammany was calling EASCAC's defense-transmissions aggressive in order to justify counter-aggression; and Stoker himself (from whom I learned all this) maintained that WESCAC had indeed set about to EAT , either by its own AIM or at the direction of

Rembrandt Samson And Delilah painting

Rembrandt Samson And Delilah paintingGuido Reni The Archangel Michael paintingFrancois Boucher The Rape of Europa painting
expectation; one could hear a common buzz of displeasure every time the streetlights winked.
"Somethingscrewy going on," our driver ventured. He took us around to the rear of the building; Anastasia put by her melancholy reverie to pay our fare (which I'd not understood was required) and brightened a little as we approached the enormous wing that housed New Tammany's Central Library stacks and offices.
"I can hardlywait for you to meet Mom after all these terms!" she said, taking my arm. We went through an entrance-door over which was engravedTHE TRUE UNIVERSITY IS A COLLECTION OF BOOKS , and made our way through vast high-ceilinged reading rooms, sparsely peopled by reason of the uncertain light.
"Iknow something's wrong at the Powerhouse," Anastasia fretted. A lone student rushed past us in the corridor which led to the Cataloguing Office; as we looked behind to see where he might be going in such haste, he caught himself up for a second and glanced back at me with an expression of indignant disbelief, as if angry at having to credit his eyes. I blushed, not knowing why I should, and gave Anastasia's hand a brotherly