Avtandil paintings

Avtandil paintings
Andy Warhol Banana
Alfred Gockel paintings
with unpleasant accents. In fact, steer clear of all the religious groups; they do nothing but harm...’ Finally, just as he was going, he said, ‘One last point. Change your rooms’ - They were large, with deeply recessed windows and painted, eighteenth-century panelling; I was lucky as a freshman to get them. ‘I’ve seen many a man ruined through having ground-floor rooms in the front quad,’ said my cousin with deep gravity. ‘People start dropping in. They leave their, gowns here and come and collect them before hall; you start giving them a sherry. Before you know where you are, you’ve opened a free bar for all the undesirables of the collegeI do not know that I ever, consciously, followed any of this advice. I certainly never changed my rooms - there were gillyflowers growing below the windows which on summer evenings filled them with fragrance.
It is easy, retrospectively, to endow one’s youth

Joan Miro paintings

Joan Miro paintings
Jean-Honore Fragonard paintings
Jehan Georges Vibert paintings
HAVE been here before,’ I said; I had been there before; first with Sebastian more than twenty years ago on a cloudless day in June, when the ditches were creamy with meadowsweet and the air heavy with all the scents of summer; it was a day of peculiar splendour, and though I had been there so often, in so many moods, it was to that first visit that my heart returned on this, my latest.
That day, too, I had come not knowing my destination. It was Eights Week. Oxford - submerged now and obliterated, irrecoverable as Lyonnesse, so quickly have the waters come flooding -in - Oxford, in those days, was still a city of aquatint. In her spacious and quiet streets men walked and spoke

George Frederick Watts paintings

George Frederick Watts paintings
Guercino paintings
Henry Peeters paintings
stiletto heels across the sand of the Row, disappeared behind the statuary through Edinburgh Gate. Basil at his own pace followed. He stopped a taxi, kept it waiting at the kerb while he searched Bellamy’s vainly for a friendly face, drank another eggnog at the bar, went on towards Claridges.
“What on earth’s happened to Barbara?” Angela asked. “She came in with a face of tragedy, didn’t speak and now she’s locked herself in your bedroom.”
“I think she’s had a row with that fellow she was keen on. What was his name? Albright. A good thing really, a likeable fellow but not at all suitable. I daresay Babs needs a change of scene. Angie, if it suits you, I think we might all three of us go to Bermuda tomorrow.”
“Can we get tickets?”
“I have them already. I stopped at the travel office on my way from Sonia’s. I don’t imagine Babs will want much dinner tonight. She’s best left alone at the moment. I feel I could manage a square meal. We might have it downstairs.”

Salvador Dali Les Elephants painting

Salvador Dali Les Elephants paintingMark Rothko Orange and Yellow paintingWassily Kandinsky Improvisation painting
They complain the hell of a lot but then they’ve got quite a lot to complain about. It’s a lousy place to be stuck in.”
“I’m particularly interested in a pair called Kanyi.”
The Commandant looked down his list. “No trace of them here.”
“Good. That probably means they got off to Australia all right.”
“Not from here, old man. I’ve been here all along. No one has ever left.”
“Could you make sure? Anyone in the Begoy draft would know about them.”
The Commandant sent his interpreter to inquire while he took Major Gordon into the shed he called his mess, and gave him a drink. Presently the man returned. “All correct, sir. The Kanyis never left Begoy. They got into some kind of trouble there and were jugged.”
“May I go with the interpreter and ask about it?”
“By all means, old man. But aren’t you making rather heavy weather of it? What do two more or less matter?”

Francisco de Zurbaran The Immaculate Conception painting

Francisco de Zurbaran The Immaculate Conception paintingArthur Hughes The Property Room paintingArthur Hughes A Music Party painting
want to in time. Just at the moment you got to move quick and quiet, that’s all.”
So, unprotesting, at nightfall, the strangely assorted party was hustled on board a schooner. Noah’s animals cannot have embarked with less sense of the object of their journey. The little ship was not built for such cargo. Down they went into a dark hold; hatches were battened down; the unmistakeable sound of moorings being cast off came to them in their timbered prison; an auxiliary Diesel engine started up; sails were hoisted; soon they were on the high seas in very nasty weather.
This is the story of a summer ; a light tale. It treats, at the worst, with solid discomfort and intellectual doubt. It would be inappropriate to speak here of those depths of the human spirit, the agony and despair, of the next few days of Scott-. To even the Comic Muse, the gadabout, the adventurous one of those heavenly sisters, to whom so little that is human comes amiss, who can mix in almost any company

Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux Camelias painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha La Dame aux Camelias paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha JOB paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Gismonda painting
hands shaken in swift succession by a deputation of their hosts. “I bid you welcome to the land of Bellorius,” said their spokesman.
His name, he told them with a neat bow, was Arturo Fe; his rank Doctor of Bellacita University; but there was nothing academic in his appearance. Rather, Scott-King thought, he might be a slightly ageing film actor. He had thin, calligraphic moustaches, a hint of sidewhisker, sparse but well-ordered hair, a gold-rimmed monocle, three gold teeth, and neat, dark clothes.
“Madam,” he said, “gentlemen, your luggage will be cared for. The motor-cars await you. Come with me. Pas? Papers? Do not give them a thought. Everything is arranged. Come.”
At this stage Scott-King became aware of a young woman standing stolidly among them. He had taken notice of her in London where she had towered some six inches above the heads of the crowd.
“I come,” she said.
Dr. Fe bowed. “Fe,” he said.

Caravaggio The Sacrifice of Isaac painting

Caravaggio The Sacrifice of Isaac paintingCaravaggio The Musicians paintingCaravaggio The Crowning with Thorns painting
years since he had been in a London ballroom and, he explained afterwards, the spectacle of his pimply and inept juniors had inflated him with a self-esteem which must, he said, have been infectious. He had sat next to Lucy at dinner. She was, for our world, very young but, for her own, of a hoary age; that is to say, she was twenty-four. For six years she had been sent to dances by her aunt, keeping in an unable, middle-strata of life in which her contemporaries had either married or taken to other occupations. This aunt occupied a ” for her, which meant that she subsisted largely upon Lucy’s income. She had two other nieces younger than Lucy, and it was greatly to their interest that they should move to London annually for the season. The aunt was a lady of delicate conwhere the issues of Lucy’s were involved. Once or twice before she had been apprehensive—without cause as it happened—that Lucy was preparing to “throw herself away.” Roger, however, was a case that admitted of no doubt. Everything

Gustav Klimt Beethoven Frieze painting

Gustav Klimt Beethoven Frieze paintingGustav Klimt Apple Tree II paintingGustav Klimt Apple Tree I painting
Sooner or later almost all my novelists come to me and say they have written poetry. I can’t think why. It does them infinite harm. Only last week Roger Simmonds was here with a kind of a play. You never saw such a thing. All the characters were parts of a motor-car—not in the least funny.”
“Oh, it won’t be anything like that,” I said. “Just some new technical experiments. I don’t suppose the average reader will notice them at all.”
“I hope not,” said Mr. Benwell. “I mean, now you’ve found your public ... well, look at Simmonds—magneto and sparking plugs and camshaft all talking in verse about communism. I don’t know what to do about it at all..... But I can count on your new novel for the autumn?”
“Yes.”
“And we can list it as ‘crime’?”
“Certainly.”
Mr. Benwell saw me to the top of the stairs. “Interesting place, Morocco,” he said. “The French are doing it very well.”
I knew what he was thinking: “The trouble about Plant is, he’s come in for money.”
In a way he was right. The money my father had left me and the proceeds which I

Lorenzo Lotto Mystic Marriage of St Catherine painting

Lorenzo Lotto Mystic Marriage of St Catherine paintingWilliam Etty Hero and Leander paintingCarl Fredrik Aagard The Rose Garden painting
future you should grow tired of your the world, there will always be a welcome for you here. Your post will be open.”
A dozen or so variously afflicted lunatics hopped and skipped after him down the drive until the iron gates opened and Mr. Loveday stepped into his freedom. His small trunk had already gone to the station; he elected to walk. He had been reticent about his plans, but he was well provided with money, and the general impression was that he would go to London and enjoy himself a little before visiting his step-sister in Plymouth.
It was to the surprise of all that he returned within two hours of his liberation. He was smiling whimsically, a gentle, self-regarding smile of reminiscence.
“I have come back,” he informed the doctor. “I think that now I shall be here for good.”
“But, Loveday, what a short I’m afraid that you have hardly enjoyed yourself at all.”
“Oh yes, sir, thank you, sir, I’ve enjoyed myself very much. I’d been promising myself one little treat, all these years. It was short, sir, but most enjoyable. Now I shall be able to settle down again to my work here without any regrets.”

Vincent van Gogh The Starry Night painting

Vincent van Gogh The Starry Night paintingFrank Dicksee La Belle Dame Sans Merci paintingSandro Botticelli The Birth of Venus painting
profound solemnity:
“You are to look after Milly, Hector. See that she doesn’t marry anyone until I get back.”
And the pup Hector waved his plume of tail.

III

Millicent came to see him off, but, negligently, went to the wrong station; it could not have mattered, however, for she was twenty minutes late. Hector and the poodle hung about the barrier looking for her, and not until the train was already moving did he bundle the animal into Beckthorpe’s arms with instructions to deliver him at Millicent’s address. Luggage labelled for Mombasa, “Wanted on the voyage,” lay in the rack above him. He felt very much neglected.
That evening as the ship pitched and rolled past the Channel lighthouses, he received a radiogram: Miserable to miss you went Paddington like idiot thank you thank you for sweet

Arthur Hughes La Belle Dame Sans Merci painting

Arthur Hughes La Belle Dame Sans Merci paintingAlbert Bierstadt Among the Sierra Nevada Mountains California paintingAlbert Bierstadt In the Mountains painting
Naples and we saw some Bertie churches and then that bit that got blown up in an earthquake and a poor dog killed they have a plaster cast of him goodness how sad. Papa and Bertie saw some pictures we weren’t allowed to see and Bill drew them for me afterwards and Miss P. tried to look too. I havent told you about Bill and Miss P. have I? Well Bill is rather old but clean looking and I dont suppose hes very old not really I mean and he’s had a very disillusionary on account of his wife who he says I wont say a word against but she gave him the raspberry with a foreigner and that makes him hate foreigners. Miss P. is called Miss Phillips and is lousy she wears a yachting cap and is a bitch. And the way she makes up to the second officer is no ones and its clear to the meanest intelligence he hates her but its part of the rules that all the sailors have to pretend to fancy the passengers. Who else is there? Well a lot of old ones. Papa is having a walk out with one called Lady Muriel something or other who knew uncle Ned. And there is a honeymoon couple very embarrassing. And a clergyman and a lovely pansy with a camera and white suit and lots of families from the industrial north.

Fabian Perez Man in Black Suit painting

Fabian Perez Man in Black Suit paintingFabian Perez Lucy paintingFabian Perez Flamenco painting
What books did you bring?”
A thoroughly normal, uneventful .
Presently Tom said: “I suppose in a way it’s rather unenterprising of us, just going off to Aunt Martha’s house in Devon. Remember how the Lockwoods went to Morocco and got captured by brigands?”
“And the Randalls got snowed up for ten days in Norway.”
“We shan’t get much adventure in Devon, I’m afraid.”
“Well, Tom, we haven’t really married for adventure, have we?”
And, as things happened, it was from that moment onwards that the honeymoon took an odd turn.

“D’you know if we change?”
“I rather think we do. I forgot to ask. Peter got the tickets. I’ll get out at Exeter and find out.”
The train drew into the station.
“Shan’t be a minute,” said Tom, shutting the door behind him to

Titian Bacchus and Ariadne painting

Titian Bacchus and Ariadne paintingLorenzo Lotto St Catherine of Alexandria paintingTheodore Chasseriau Apollo and Daphne painting
easily have broken through into the realm of bodily harm. Indeed, so incompatible did it seem with all previous experience that it was some appreciable time before he could convince himself of the continuity of his existence; but for the of Hebraic and mediaeval imagery with which the idea of the body had become symbolized, he could in that moment easily have believed in his own bodily extinction and the unreality of all the sensible objects about him. Later he learned to regard these periods between his fall and the dismayed advent of help from below, as the first promptings towards that struggle for detachment in which he had, not without almost frantic endeavour, finally acknowledged defeat in the bedroom of the Oxford hotel.
The first phase of detachment had passed and had been succeeded by one of methodical investigation. Almost simultaneously with his acceptance of his continued existence had come the conception of pain—vaguely at first as of a melody played by another to which his

Leonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self Portrait painting

Leonardo da Vinci da Vinci Self Portrait paintingLeonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Painting paintingRembrandt Rembrandt night watch painting
others who now looked to see my reaction; bidding Anastasia to remain where she was with T.'s T.'s T., I made my way around to the opposite viewing-stand. Though not inconspicuously attired and scented, I was able to move without attracting great notice, owing to the crowd's preoccupation. As the guards led Max forth, Bray's cloak changed color with each rich chord the trumpets sounded: black to brown, brown to iridescent green, green to a white so like the Shaft's that the cloak seemed transparent, if not vanished -- even the mortar-lines were replicated on it! Next he stepped from the ledge onto the surface of the pool and with a kind of sliding gait, as if the water were frozen, walked across to meet my keeper. The guards, no less amazed than the spectators, dismounted and examined the pool, even poked it with their billies to prove that there was no walkway just under the surface.
"Ja ja!"I heard Dr. Eierkopf cry, and his applause was taken up by the others. Even the Chancellor shook his head, much impressed; the professor-generals behind him elbowed each other excitedly; Telerama-men chattered wide-eyed into their microphones. Max

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf painting

Thomas Kinkade San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf paintingThomas Kinkade Paris City of Lights paintingThomas Kinkade New Horizons painting
partook of both, served both, and was in itself true emblem of neither. I had been wrong, I said, to think it Troll. Black cap and gown of naked Truth, it screened from the general eye what only the few, Truth's lovers and tutees, might look on bare and not be blinded.
The six took frownish notes, shaking their heads; the rest hooted me down. How to speak the unspeakable? I said no more. One forelocked aide winked at a stern professor-general, tapped his temple, and said, "Probably EATen, like the old lady."
I sighed and contented myself with a suggestion they could understand: that they unplug WESCAC's Output from its Input, to restore the normal circuit. Exchanging glances of surmise, they hurried off. I looked about then for my usual lynchers, and was surprised to see none in evidence, until I observed that the approaching motorcade was led by Stoker, and that Max was in his sidecar: the mass of studentdom had gone to Founder's Hill, I realized grimly, to watch the Shafting. It was against capital punishment, among other things, that the sheep-skinned band had assembled to demonstrate, all but the faction protesting protest. Stoker skidded up and snarled at Anastasia; his crew piled up their rowdy vehicles behind him.

Thomas Moran Mountain of the Holy Cross painting

Thomas Moran Mountain of the Holy Cross paintingThomas Moran Thomas Moran Monterey Coast paintingThomas Moran Thomas Moran Grand Canyon painting
left, and almost simultaneously three headlights jiggled into view, one from before us and two from the left: motorcycles racing full-throttle. Nowise alarmed, the guards fell to wagering: their odds favored "the boss" (some called him"der Hauptmann"), who approached from the front, to reach the crossroads first, although the pair coming up on our left seemed rather nearer. And they knew their man, for with a recklessness that bespoke Maurice Stoker, "the boss" suddenly began shooting not into the air but at his competition -- at the road ahead of them, in any case, where dust-puffs rose in their headlamp-beams and bullets rang from stones. The lead cyclist of the pair swerved for his l and spun into a shallow ditch, as Herman Hermann must once have done; the other slowed his pace appreciably, with the result that Maurice Stoker skidded into the crossroads, lit by our headlights, three or four seconds before his rival, another Powerhouse guard. Our detachment applauded their leader and hooted at their colleague's timidity.

Adam and Eve

Adam and EveMarc Chagall The ModelThe Grand Parade
she had mistrusted me the minute she'd first set eyes on me, she declared to Bray (forgetting, I presume, that I'd been at that time disguised as him), and her suspicions had been borne out catastrophically: not only had I, in addition to my more famous crimes, driven my mother mad, ruined the CACAFILE, and caused the Founder's Scroll to be first lost and then destroyed; I was also responsible for the undoing of New Tammany's most beloved alma-matriot, chancellor emeritus, and professor-general (retired). Not content to destroy the Philophilosophical Fund and thus move the another step closer to Student-Unionism (of which Founderless ideology she had no doubt I was an agent), I had by some sinister means arranged for the transfer of its former director, the greatest of p.-g.'s and most considerate of employers, out of Great Mall and all posts of honor, to the managership of a bunch of stinking goats -- probably in reprisal for the well-deserved punishment of the "pink pedagogue" and traitor Max Spielman.
"There, there," the P.-G. muttered, blushing gratefully and patting with his good hand first her corseted, indignant rump and then, catching himself up, her back, in a classmately way.

Louise Abbema paintings

Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
Lord Frederick Leighton paintings
the passersby's dismay; and skipped up the marble entrance steps on all fours -- the point being that Iwasn't justCapra hircus, any more than the white-coat pair of watchers at the top were simplyHomo sapiens.
"A wise guy," one of them said.
"I don't know, Bill," said the other.
"George Giles the Goat-Boy," I announced, rising proudly to shake hands.
They exchanged glances. "Come off it, pal," Bill said. "Let's see your matric card."
Pleased at the chance to demonstrate my point, I displayed the blank ID-card with a smile. "What difference does a name make, classmates? Iam, that's all."
"What'd I tell you," his colleague said to him. Bill grunted.
I was surprised and pleased. "You've thought of it before? That none of us really has a name?"
"Some stinks worse'n others, though," Bill said. The two each

Johannes Vermeer paintings

Johannes Vermeer paintings
Jacques-Louis David paintings
John Everett Millais paintings
anticipated my present position. They'd understood some things better than I -- though perhaps less well than I did now -- and their commentary on my remarks invariably enlarged my understanding -- to the point where I felt that same commentary vaguely deficient.
"It seems to me, sir," I said to The Living Sakhyan, "that WESCAC reallyis the Dean o' Flunks, as I used to think when I was a kid. . ."
"Didn't I tell you?" someone whispered triumphantly."Attack the terms of the problem!" And before his classmates could shush him he alarmed me (since the slogan he quoted was exactly what I had in mind) by adding, "But isn't it only WESCAC's old MALI circuitry that that would apply to? How canWescacus malinoctis be a symbol of Differentiation?" It was an objection I'd not myself considered. Fortunately another student hissed, "So what's this MALI and NOCTIS? Another set of arbitrary categories!"
This silenced the troubled one, and eased my own mind. "He'll reinterpret the terms

Caravaggio paintings

Caravaggio paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
upsetting me -- but I did not fall. It surprised me to observe how short a man he was, now I was standing straight: I was a whole head taller! Many things, indeed, that I had until then necessarily looked up to I found myself regarding now as from an eminence; the perspective put me once more in mind of my short reign as Dean of the Hill.
"I'm going to learn everything!" I cried. "I want you to teach me all I have to know, and then I'm going to be a student in New Tammany And you know what I'm going to do, Max? I'm going to find out where WESCAC's den is, and I'll say, 'Where's my mother and father? What have you done with them?' And he'd better give me the right answer, or by George I'll eathim up!"
Max shook his head happily. "Such talk!"
Perhaps thinking I'd referred to him, George Herrold struck up his favorite warning: "It's WESCAC'll EAT you if you don't watch out. . ."
"You'll see!" I gaily promised.
Max let go me and furrowed his brow. "Say now, Billy! I just thought something!"

Claude Monet The Picnic painting

Claude Monet The Picnic paintingClaude Monet Sunset paintingClaude Monet La Japonaise painting
pornographers, and prostitute co-eds detained under Lucius Rexford's far-reaching program of campus reform (of which more presently), or any other combination of the flunked.or Croaker, when soon afterwards he joined our company. From them, from Stoker himself, who now and then toured his domain, and from the regular visits of Anastasia and my mother, I learned the unhappy state of things among my erstwhile Tutees, as well as in the upper campus generally. And that news, those developments, were my one real punishment in this interval of my : sad postings in a desert of dead time.
I was not uncomfortable. When meat was served, or cows-milk, I contented myself with water and mattress-straw, and gained strength and trim from that buckly fare
Yet among the inconsistencies of our detention, by the logic of our warden's illogicality, we were not invariably assigned a cell at all. On occasion it was every man for himself at lock-up time; my objectives then would be to elude the predatory faggots (who collared the unwary to ruthless buggering) and share a cell with Max, Leonid, Peter Greene --

Pablo Picasso Girl Before a Mirror painting

Pablo Picasso Girl Before a Mirror paintingClaude Monet Sunflowers paintingFabian Perez valerie painting
seemed far from unimaginable to me that he might make use of his position to deliver secret information to the Nikolayans, for example, or to steal a priceless treasure like the Founder's Scroll. . .
The interloper -- in fact a female person of a certain age -- emerged now into the center; Anastasia left off regarding me quizzically and smiled.
"Come on: it's Mom."
She would have hailed or gone to her, but when the elder woman paused beside the case at sound of us and peered to see who we were, adjusting a pencil in her silver hair, light flashed from the point-cornered lenses of her eyeglasses. I gripped Anastasia's arm and very nearly swooned.
"Founder Omniscient!" I groaned, and ran with chill perspiration; was obliged to squat and feign interest in a low drawer of cards until I mastered my shivering. No mistaking her: it was Lady Creamhair, however drawn and silvered by unhappy terms!
Anastasia bent to me, frightened. "Whatis it, George?" I shook my head. Lady Creamhair's eyes --Virginia Hector's, it staggered me to understand