Stubbs The Grosvenor HuntStubbs Racehorses Belonging to the Duke of Richmond Exercising at GoodwoodStubbs Mares by an Oak-TreeStubbs Mares and Foals in a Wooded Landscape
fifty that they began to think it queer.Frodo himself, after the first shock, found that being his own master and the Mr. Baggins of Bag End was rather pleasant. For some years he was quite happy and did not worry much about the future. But half unknown to himself the regret that he had not gone with Bilbo was steadily growing. He found himself wondering at times, especially in the autumn, about the wild lands, and strange visions of to wandering further afield and more often by himself; and Merry and his other friends watched him anxiously. Often he was seen walking and talking with the strange wayfarers that began at this time to appear in the Shire.There were rumours of strange things happening in the world outside; and as Gandalf had not at that time appeared or sent any message for several years, Frodo gathered all the news he could. Elves, mountains that he had never seen came into his dreams. He began to say to himself: ‘Perhaps I shall cross the River myself one day.’ To which the other half of his mind always replied: ‘Not yet.’So it went on, until his forties were running out, and his fiftieth birthday was drawing near: fifty was a number that he felt was somehow significant (or ominous); it was at any rate at that age that adventure had suddenly befallen Bilbo. Frodo began to feel restless, and the old paths seemed too well-trodden. He looked at maps, and wondered what lay beyond their edges: maps made in the Shire showed mostly white spaces beyond its borders. He took
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
Neiman Normandy Sailing
Neiman Normandy SailingNeiman New York MarathonNeiman Nantucket SailingNeiman Muhammad Ali Athlete of the Century
indeed, with only one window or none; while the well-to-do still constructed more luxurious versions of the simple diggings of old. But suitable sites for these large and ramifying tunnels (or smials as they called them) were not everywhere to be found; and in the flats and the low-lying districts the Hobbits, as they multiplied, began to build above ground. Indeed, even in the hilly regions and the older villages, such as Hobbiton or had any trace of a beard. Indeed, the folk of the Marish, and of Buckland, east of the River, which they afterwards occupied, came for the most part later into the Shire up from south-away; and they still had many peculiar names and strange words not found elsewhere in the Shire.It is probable that the craft of building, as many other crafts beside, was derived from the DúnedTuckborough, or in the chief township of the Shire, Michel Delving on the White Downs, there were now many houses of wood, brick, or stone. These were specially favoured by millers, smiths, ropers, and cartwrights, and others of that sort; for even when they had holes to live in. Hobbits had long been accustomed to build sheds and workshops.The habit of building farmhouses and barns was said to have begun among the inhabitants of the Marish down by the Brandywine. The Hobbits of that quarter, the Eastfarthing, were rather large and heavy-legged, and they wore dwarf-boots in muddy weather. But they were well known to be Stoors in a large part of their blood, as indeed was shown by the down that many grew on their chins. No Harfoot or Fallohide
indeed, with only one window or none; while the well-to-do still constructed more luxurious versions of the simple diggings of old. But suitable sites for these large and ramifying tunnels (or smials as they called them) were not everywhere to be found; and in the flats and the low-lying districts the Hobbits, as they multiplied, began to build above ground. Indeed, even in the hilly regions and the older villages, such as Hobbiton or had any trace of a beard. Indeed, the folk of the Marish, and of Buckland, east of the River, which they afterwards occupied, came for the most part later into the Shire up from south-away; and they still had many peculiar names and strange words not found elsewhere in the Shire.It is probable that the craft of building, as many other crafts beside, was derived from the DúnedTuckborough, or in the chief township of the Shire, Michel Delving on the White Downs, there were now many houses of wood, brick, or stone. These were specially favoured by millers, smiths, ropers, and cartwrights, and others of that sort; for even when they had holes to live in. Hobbits had long been accustomed to build sheds and workshops.The habit of building farmhouses and barns was said to have begun among the inhabitants of the Marish down by the Brandywine. The Hobbits of that quarter, the Eastfarthing, were rather large and heavy-legged, and they wore dwarf-boots in muddy weather. But they were well known to be Stoors in a large part of their blood, as indeed was shown by the down that many grew on their chins. No Harfoot or Fallohide
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Inness Hillside at Etretet
Inness Hillside at EtretetInness Harvest Scene in the Delaware ValleyInness Etretat NormandyInness Clearing Up
Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that he must die. I must die. It must end.
The castle was empty. He felt ghostly striding through it alone, as if he had already died. The portrait people were still missing from
Ron and Hermione seemed a long way away, in a far-off country; he felt as though he had parted from them long ago. There would be no good-byes and no explanations, he was determined of that. This was a journey they could not take together, and the attempts they would make to stop him would waste valuable time. He looked down at the battered gold watch he had received on his seventeenth birthday. Nearly half of the hour allotted by Voldemort for his surrender had elapsed.
He stood up. His heart was leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to beats before the end. He did not look back as he closed the office door.
Like rain on a cold window, these thoughts pattered against the hard surface of the incontrovertible truth, which was that he must die. I must die. It must end.
The castle was empty. He felt ghostly striding through it alone, as if he had already died. The portrait people were still missing from
Ron and Hermione seemed a long way away, in a far-off country; he felt as though he had parted from them long ago. There would be no good-byes and no explanations, he was determined of that. This was a journey they could not take together, and the attempts they would make to stop him would waste valuable time. He looked down at the battered gold watch he had received on his seventeenth birthday. Nearly half of the hour allotted by Voldemort for his surrender had elapsed.
He stood up. His heart was leaping against his ribs like a frantic bird. Perhaps it knew it had little time left, perhaps it was determined to beats before the end. He did not look back as he closed the office door.
Heade Red Roses in a Crystal Goblet
Heade Red Roses in a Crystal GobletHeade Red Rose with Ruby ThroatHeade Passion Flowers and HummingbirdsHeade Orchids Passion Flowers and Hummingbird
come on, Harry!" said Hermione's voice from a very long way away.
"Patronuses, Harry, come on!"
he raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading
throughout him: How many more lay dead that he did not yet know
about? He felt as though his soul had already half left his body....
"HARRY, COME ON!" screamed Hermione. And then a silver hare, a boar, and fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione's heads: the dementors fell back before the creatures' approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus. "That's right," said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the
A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking
their way closer to Harry's despair, which was like a promise of a
feast...
He saw Ron's silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and
expire; he saw Hermione's otter twist in midair and fade, and his
own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming
oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling...
come on, Harry!" said Hermione's voice from a very long way away.
"Patronuses, Harry, come on!"
he raised his wand, but a dull hopelessness was spreading
throughout him: How many more lay dead that he did not yet know
about? He felt as though his soul had already half left his body....
"HARRY, COME ON!" screamed Hermione. And then a silver hare, a boar, and fox soared past Harry, Ron, and Hermione's heads: the dementors fell back before the creatures' approach. Three more people had arrived out of the darkness to stand beside them, their wands outstretched, continuing to cast Patronuses: Luna, Ernie, and Seamus. "That's right," said Luna encouragingly, as if they were back in the Room of Requirement and this was simply spell practice for the
A hundred dementors were advancing, gliding toward them, sucking
their way closer to Harry's despair, which was like a promise of a
feast...
He saw Ron's silver terrier burst into the air, flicker feebly, and
expire; he saw Hermione's otter twist in midair and fade, and his
own wand trembled in his hand, and he almost welcomed the oncoming
oblivion, the promise of nothing, of no feeling...
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Monet Haystacks At Chailly
Monet Haystacks At ChaillyMonet Haystack snow effectMonet General View Of Rouen From St Catherine s BankMonet Garden In Flower At Sainte-Adresse
Tonks," said Ginny, "Tonks, I'm sure he's okay –"
But Tonks had run off into the dust after Aberforth.
Ginny turned, helpless, to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
The furor of the battle died the moment they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them: All was silent. They were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.
"They'll be all right," said Harry, though he knew they were empty words. "Ginny, we'll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way, keep safe – come on!" he said to Ron and Hermione, and they ran back to the stretch of wall beyond which the Room of Requirement was waiting to do the bidding of the next entrant.
I need the place where everything is hidden. Harry begged of it inside his head, and the door materialized on their third run past.
Tonks," said Ginny, "Tonks, I'm sure he's okay –"
But Tonks had run off into the dust after Aberforth.
Ginny turned, helpless, to Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
The furor of the battle died the moment they crossed the threshold and closed the door behind them: All was silent. They were in a place the size of a cathedral with the appearance of a city, its towering walls built of objects hidden by thousands of long-gone students.
"They'll be all right," said Harry, though he knew they were empty words. "Ginny, we'll be back in a moment, just keep out of the way, keep safe – come on!" he said to Ron and Hermione, and they ran back to the stretch of wall beyond which the Room of Requirement was waiting to do the bidding of the next entrant.
I need the place where everything is hidden. Harry begged of it inside his head, and the door materialized on their third run past.
Monday, November 24, 2008
Abrishami Self Expression
Abrishami Self ExpressionAbrishami SCENT OF SICILYAbrishami Red PassionAbrishami Quiet Sunset
lying on the bank of the lake in the setting sun, and Ron and Hermione were looking down at him. Judging by their worried looks, and by the continued pounding of his scar, his sudden excursion into Voldemort's mind had not passed unnoticed. He struggled up, shivering, vaguely surprised that
Ron was gaping at him; Hermione sat up, looking worried. "But what did you see? How do you know?" "I saw him find out about the cup, I - I was in his head, he's"
he was still wet to his skin, and saw the cup lying innocently in the grass before him, and the lake, deep blue shot with gold in the falling sun.
"He knows." His own voice sounded strange and low after Voldemort's high screams. "He knows and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one," he was already on his feet," is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I knew it."
"What?"
lying on the bank of the lake in the setting sun, and Ron and Hermione were looking down at him. Judging by their worried looks, and by the continued pounding of his scar, his sudden excursion into Voldemort's mind had not passed unnoticed. He struggled up, shivering, vaguely surprised that
Ron was gaping at him; Hermione sat up, looking worried. "But what did you see? How do you know?" "I saw him find out about the cup, I - I was in his head, he's"
he was still wet to his skin, and saw the cup lying innocently in the grass before him, and the lake, deep blue shot with gold in the falling sun.
"He knows." His own voice sounded strange and low after Voldemort's high screams. "He knows and he's going to check where the others are, and the last one," he was already on his feet," is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I knew it."
"What?"
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Pissarro Chrysanthemums In A Chinese Vase
Pissarro Chrysanthemums In A Chinese VasePissarro Apples and Pears in a Round BasketLorrain Ulysses Returns Chryseis to her FatherLorrain The Rape of Europa
. "They've killed
plenty of us. They've fought dirty too."
"But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn't
going to make him more likely to help us, is it?"
There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked
who realized there had been a swap!" "Yeah, but we could _ca_per before he realizes --" He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him. "That," she said quietly, "is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you
out of the window at Dobby's grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside
the headstone.
"Okay," said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, "how's this? We tell Griphook we
need the sword until we get inside the and then he can have it. There's a fake in
these, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake."
"Ron, he'd know the difference better than we would!" said Hermione. "He's the only one
. "They've killed
plenty of us. They've fought dirty too."
"But arguing with Griphook about whose race is most underhanded and violent isn't
going to make him more likely to help us, is it?"
There was a pause while they tried to think of a way around the problem. Harry looked
who realized there had been a swap!" "Yeah, but we could _ca_per before he realizes --" He quailed beneath the look Hermione was giving him. "That," she said quietly, "is despicable. Ask for his help, then double-cross him? And you
out of the window at Dobby's grave. Luna was arranging sea lavender in a jam jar beside
the headstone.
"Okay," said Ron, and Harry turned back to face him, "how's this? We tell Griphook we
need the sword until we get inside the and then he can have it. There's a fake in
these, isn't there? We switch them, and give him the fake."
"Ron, he'd know the difference better than we would!" said Hermione. "He's the only one
Friday, November 21, 2008
Perrault Cupid's Arrows
Perrault Cupid's ArrowsMantegna Noli me tangerePerrault A Water NymphWatts Ariadne on the Island of Naxos
What was that?" shouted Lucius Malfoy from over their heads. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"
Harry and Ron stared at each other.
anyone entered the room and saw the absence of three prisoners, they were lost. "Leave the lights on," Harry added, and as they heard someone descending the steps outside the door, they backed against the wall on either side of it. "Stand back," came Wormtail's voice. "Stand away from the door. I'm coming in." The door flew open. For a split second Wormtail gazed into
"Draco – no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
Footsteps crossed the room overhead, then there was silence. Harry knew that the people in the drawing room were listening for more noises from the cellar.
"We're going to have to try and tackle him," he whispered to Ron. They had no choice: The moment
What was that?" shouted Lucius Malfoy from over their heads. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"
Harry and Ron stared at each other.
anyone entered the room and saw the absence of three prisoners, they were lost. "Leave the lights on," Harry added, and as they heard someone descending the steps outside the door, they backed against the wall on either side of it. "Stand back," came Wormtail's voice. "Stand away from the door. I'm coming in." The door flew open. For a split second Wormtail gazed into
"Draco – no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
Footsteps crossed the room overhead, then there was silence. Harry knew that the people in the drawing room were listening for more noises from the cellar.
"We're going to have to try and tackle him," he whispered to Ron. They had no choice: The moment
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Renoir Study Torso Sunlight Effect
Renoir Study Torso Sunlight EffectRenoir La GrenouilliereRenoir Child with a WhipRenoir Claude Monet Painting in his Garden at Argenteuil
Read it," he told her, pushing his mother's letter into her hand. "Read it! Dumbledore had the Cloak, Hermione! Why else would he want it? He didn't need a Cloak, he could perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that he made himself completely invisible without one!"
He could not understand why Ron looked taken aback. It was so obvious, so clear to Harry. Everything fit, everything…His Cloak was the third Hallow, and when he discovered how to open the Snitch he would have the second, and then all he needed to do was find the first Hallow, the Elder Wand, and then ---
Something fell to the floor and rolled, glittering, under a chair: He had dislodged the Snitch when he pulled out the letter. He stooped to pick it up, and then the newly tapped spring of fabulous discoveries threw him another gift, and shock and wonder erupted inside him so that he shouted out.
"IT'S IN HERE! He left me the ring – it's in the Snitch!"
"You --- you reckon?"
Read it," he told her, pushing his mother's letter into her hand. "Read it! Dumbledore had the Cloak, Hermione! Why else would he want it? He didn't need a Cloak, he could perform a Disillusionment Charm so powerful that he made himself completely invisible without one!"
He could not understand why Ron looked taken aback. It was so obvious, so clear to Harry. Everything fit, everything…His Cloak was the third Hallow, and when he discovered how to open the Snitch he would have the second, and then all he needed to do was find the first Hallow, the Elder Wand, and then ---
Something fell to the floor and rolled, glittering, under a chair: He had dislodged the Snitch when he pulled out the letter. He stooped to pick it up, and then the newly tapped spring of fabulous discoveries threw him another gift, and shock and wonder erupted inside him so that he shouted out.
"IT'S IN HERE! He left me the ring – it's in the Snitch!"
"You --- you reckon?"
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Li-Leger Tapestry_ Summer Bloom
Li-Leger Tapestry_ Summer BloomLi-Leger Tapestry_ Iris Nine Patch I (i)Li-Leger Summer BloomLi-Leger String Theory
an awful shock. Gellert was there in the house when it happened, and he came back to my house all of a dither, told me . Terribly distressed, you know. So I arranged a Portkey and that was the last I saw of him.
"Albus was beside himself at Ariana's death. It was so dreadful for those two brothers. They had lost everybody except for each other. No wonder tempers ran a little high. Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy. All the same, breaking Albus's nose at the funeral was not decent. It would have destroyed Kendra to see her sons fighting like that, across her daughter's body. A shame Gellert could not have stayed for the funeral. . . . He would have been a comfort to Albus, at least. . . .
This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral, raises several questions. Why exactly did
an awful shock. Gellert was there in the house when it happened, and he came back to my house all of a dither, told me . Terribly distressed, you know. So I arranged a Portkey and that was the last I saw of him.
"Albus was beside himself at Ariana's death. It was so dreadful for those two brothers. They had lost everybody except for each other. No wonder tempers ran a little high. Aberforth blamed Albus, you know, as people will under these dreadful circumstances. But Aberforth always talked a little madly, poor boy. All the same, breaking Albus's nose at the funeral was not decent. It would have destroyed Kendra to see her sons fighting like that, across her daughter's body. A shame Gellert could not have stayed for the funeral. . . . He would have been a comfort to Albus, at least. . . .
This dreadful coffin-side brawl, known only to those few who attended Ariana Dumbledore's funeral, raises several questions. Why exactly did
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Dali Evocation of the Apparition Lenin
Dali Evocation of the Apparition LeninDali Christ of St. John of the CrossDali Apparition of My Cousin CarolinettaMachado Umbrella Lights
So, you three have been on the run how long?" asked a new, mellow, and pleasant voice; it was vaguely familiar to Harry, who pictured a round-bellied, cheerful-faced man.
Tonks's father. "Heard Death Eaters were in the area last week and decided I'd better run for it. Refused to register as a Muggle-born on principle, see, so I knew it was a matter of time, knew I'd have to leave in the end. My wife should be okay, she's pure-blood. And then I net Dean here, what, a few days ago, son?" "Six weeks . . . Seven . . . I forget," said the tired man. "Met up with Griphook in the first couple of days and joined forces with Gornuk not long after. Nice to have a but of company." There was a pause, while knives scraped plates and tin mugs were picked up and replaced on the ground. "What made you leave, Ted?" continued the man.
"Knew they were coming for me," replied mellow-voiced Ted, and Harry suddenly knew who he was:
So, you three have been on the run how long?" asked a new, mellow, and pleasant voice; it was vaguely familiar to Harry, who pictured a round-bellied, cheerful-faced man.
Tonks's father. "Heard Death Eaters were in the area last week and decided I'd better run for it. Refused to register as a Muggle-born on principle, see, so I knew it was a matter of time, knew I'd have to leave in the end. My wife should be okay, she's pure-blood. And then I net Dean here, what, a few days ago, son?" "Six weeks . . . Seven . . . I forget," said the tired man. "Met up with Griphook in the first couple of days and joined forces with Gornuk not long after. Nice to have a but of company." There was a pause, while knives scraped plates and tin mugs were picked up and replaced on the ground. "What made you leave, Ted?" continued the man.
"Knew they were coming for me," replied mellow-voiced Ted, and Harry suddenly knew who he was:
Monday, November 17, 2008
Caravaggio Judith Beheading Holofernes painting
Caravaggio Judith Beheading Holofernes paintingPierre-Auguste Cot spring paintingWilliam Bouguereau the first kiss painting
Patronus here without revealing himself instantly. So he moved forward as silently as he could, and with every step he took numbness seemed to steal over his brain, but he forced himself to think of Hermione and of Ron, who needed him.
corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it. "No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you – get your hands off me, get your hands
Moving through the towering black figures was terrifying: The eyeless faces hidden beneath their hoods turned as he passed, and he felt sure that they sensed him, sensed, perhaps, a human presence that still had some hope, some resilience….
And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the
Patronus here without revealing himself instantly. So he moved forward as silently as he could, and with every step he took numbness seemed to steal over his brain, but he forced himself to think of Hermione and of Ron, who needed him.
corridor was flung open and screams echoed out of it. "No, no, I'm half-blood, I'm half-blood, I tell you! My father was a wizard, he was, look him up, Arkie Alderton, he's a well known broomstick designer, look him up, I tell you – get your hands off me, get your hands
Moving through the towering black figures was terrifying: The eyeless faces hidden beneath their hoods turned as he passed, and he felt sure that they sensed him, sensed, perhaps, a human presence that still had some hope, some resilience….
And then, abruptly and shockingly amid the frozen silence, one of the dungeon doors on the left of the
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Edward Hopper Chop Suey painting
Edward Hopper Chop Suey paintingJean Francois Millet The Gleaners paintingSalvador Dali meditative rose painting
Dumbledore's will, and resentment swelled in the darkness. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? Why hadn't he explained? Had Dumbledore actually cared about Harry at all? Or had Harry been nothing more than a tool to be polished and honed, but not trusted, never confided in?
On the second landing was the bedroom in which he and Ron had slept last time they had been here; he glanced into it. The wardrobe doors stood open and the bedclothes had been ripped back. Harry remembered the overturned troll leg downstairs. Somebody had searched the house since the
Harry could not stand lying there with nothing but bitter thoughts for company. Desperate for something to do, for distraction, he slipped out of his sleeping bad, picked up his wand, and crept out of the room. On the landing he whispered, "Lumos," and started to climb the stairs by wandlight.
Dumbledore's will, and resentment swelled in the darkness. Why hadn't Dumbledore told him? Why hadn't he explained? Had Dumbledore actually cared about Harry at all? Or had Harry been nothing more than a tool to be polished and honed, but not trusted, never confided in?
On the second landing was the bedroom in which he and Ron had slept last time they had been here; he glanced into it. The wardrobe doors stood open and the bedclothes had been ripped back. Harry remembered the overturned troll leg downstairs. Somebody had searched the house since the
Harry could not stand lying there with nothing but bitter thoughts for company. Desperate for something to do, for distraction, he slipped out of his sleeping bad, picked up his wand, and crept out of the room. On the landing he whispered, "Lumos," and started to climb the stairs by wandlight.
Friday, November 14, 2008
Rembrandt Susanna and the Elders painting
Rembrandt Susanna and the Elders paintingRembrandt History Painting paintingJean Auguste Dominique Ingres Perseus and Andromeda painting
"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him – and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as Hermione began to argue "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"
"But –"
She could not argue, though she looked as if she would have liked to. While she unlocked the café door, Ron clicked the Deluminator to release the café's light. Then, on Harry's count of three, they reversed the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Harry, Ron and Hermione had turned on the spot and vanished into the compressing darkness once more.
"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."
"Ron's dad said they've put up jinxes against him – and even if they haven't worked," he pressed on as Hermione began to argue "so what? I swear, I'd like nothing better than to meet Snape!"
"But –"
She could not argue, though she looked as if she would have liked to. While she unlocked the café door, Ron clicked the Deluminator to release the café's light. Then, on Harry's count of three, they reversed the spells upon their three victims, and before the waitress or either of the Death Eaters could do more than stir sleepily, Harry, Ron and Hermione had turned on the spot and vanished into the compressing darkness once more.
"Hermione, where else is there? It's the best chance we've got. Snape's only one Death Eater. If I've still got the Trace on me, we'll have whole crowds of them on us wherever else we go."
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II painting
Gustav Klimt Schloss Kammer Am Attersee II paintingGustav Klimt Portrait of Adele Bloch (gold foil) paintingGustav Klimt Judith II (gold foil) painting
You didn't have to get me anything."
She disregarded this too.
"I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you."
He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.
She took a step closer to him.
"So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing."
"I think opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest."
"There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him
You didn't have to get me anything."
She disregarded this too.
"I didn't know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you."
He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful; that was one of the many wonderful things about Ginny, she was rarely weepy. He had sometimes thought that having six brothers must have toughened her up.
She took a step closer to him.
"So then I thought, I'd like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you're off doing whatever you're doing."
"I think opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest."
"There's the silver lining I've been looking for," she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Juan Gris The Guitar painting
Juan Gris The Guitar paintingJuan Gris Man in the Cafe paintingJuan Gris Breakfast painting
realize where our lives are going until we really examine them. Or we can get so caught up in a routine that we don’t realize we can change it. Regular self reflection is the answer: think about how your life is going, how you’re spending your time, and decide whether you need to make changes. Then schedule time to make those changes immediately — or make the changes right away if possible.That primal craving to take a long smooth drag from a cigarette doesn't just come after sex. The need for nicotine can hit after a night of heavy drinking, a hearty meal, a bar brawl, or surviving an accidental drug overdose. If you've been glued to the TV wondering how it is the nostalgia and romance for the tobacco leaf has replaced those pesky fears of cancer, then blame the AMC series Mad Men. Indeed, William Morris has long kept the bigwigs at Philip Morris rich and happy. Here are 10 films that have us feigning so hard for a cig, we had to press pause and take a smoke break.
realize where our lives are going until we really examine them. Or we can get so caught up in a routine that we don’t realize we can change it. Regular self reflection is the answer: think about how your life is going, how you’re spending your time, and decide whether you need to make changes. Then schedule time to make those changes immediately — or make the changes right away if possible.That primal craving to take a long smooth drag from a cigarette doesn't just come after sex. The need for nicotine can hit after a night of heavy drinking, a hearty meal, a bar brawl, or surviving an accidental drug overdose. If you've been glued to the TV wondering how it is the nostalgia and romance for the tobacco leaf has replaced those pesky fears of cancer, then blame the AMC series Mad Men. Indeed, William Morris has long kept the bigwigs at Philip Morris rich and happy. Here are 10 films that have us feigning so hard for a cig, we had to press pause and take a smoke break.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
Try this trick to help you decipher the food labels and "nutrition Facts" you now see on packaged foods.
The calcium amounts you'll see listed are percentages, based on the standard of 1,000 milligrams of calcium a day. So to figure out how much calcium you're actually getting in each serving, it's easy. Just add a zero to the percentage of calcium you see on the label to convert it to actual milligrams (mg). So, for example, if a cereal box says "Calcium: 50%," then that cereal has 500 milligrams of calcium in each serving.
John Singleton Copley paintings
experts all agree: Don't forget your vitamin D. You need it to absorb the calcium from all those calcium-rich foods.
Your skin normally makes vitamin D from sunlight. "But as people age," says Mystkowski, "their skin doesn't convert vitamin D as well." So while the standard recommended daily allowance (RDA) for adults is 400 IU of vitamin D, he advises taking even more when bone loss is a problem.
"I'd say most people with osteoporosis should be on 800 IU a day," says Mystkowski. And he advises even
James Childs paintings
Try this trick to help you decipher the food labels and "nutrition Facts" you now see on packaged foods.
The calcium amounts you'll see listed are percentages, based on the standard of 1,000 milligrams of calcium a day. So to figure out how much calcium you're actually getting in each serving, it's easy. Just add a zero to the percentage of calcium you see on the label to convert it to actual milligrams (mg). So, for example, if a cereal box says "Calcium: 50%," then that cereal has 500 milligrams of calcium in each serving.
John Singleton Copley paintings
experts all agree: Don't forget your vitamin D. You need it to absorb the calcium from all those calcium-rich foods.
Your skin normally makes vitamin D from sunlight. "But as people age," says Mystkowski, "their skin doesn't convert vitamin D as well." So while the standard recommended daily allowance (RDA) for adults is 400 IU of vitamin D, he advises taking even more when bone loss is a problem.
"I'd say most people with osteoporosis should be on 800 IU a day," says Mystkowski. And he advises even
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Edward Hopper Sunday painting
Edward Hopper Sunday paintingEdward Hopper Morning Sun paintingAmedeo Modigliani Reclining Nude painting
from her new perch. "Gibreel says the sea is like our souls. When we open them, we can move through into wisdom. If we can open our hearts, we can open the sea."
"Partition was quite a disaster here on land," he taunted her. "Quite a few guys died, you might remember. You think it will be different in the water?" so there were perhaps two hundred gawpers on the beach. Nothing to worry about. What _was_ strange was that the spectators did not see the butterflies, or what they did next. But Mirza Saeed clearly observed the great glowing cloud fly out over the sea; pause; hover; and form itself into the shape of a colossal
"Shh," said Ayesha suddenly. "The angel's almost here."
It was, on the face of it, surprising that after all the attention the march had received the crowd at the beach was no better than moderate; but the authorities had taken many precautions, closing roads, diverting traffic;
from her new perch. "Gibreel says the sea is like our souls. When we open them, we can move through into wisdom. If we can open our hearts, we can open the sea."
"Partition was quite a disaster here on land," he taunted her. "Quite a few guys died, you might remember. You think it will be different in the water?" so there were perhaps two hundred gawpers on the beach. Nothing to worry about. What _was_ strange was that the spectators did not see the butterflies, or what they did next. But Mirza Saeed clearly observed the great glowing cloud fly out over the sea; pause; hover; and form itself into the shape of a colossal
"Shh," said Ayesha suddenly. "The angel's almost here."
It was, on the face of it, surprising that after all the attention the march had received the crowd at the beach was no better than moderate; but the authorities had taken many precautions, closing roads, diverting traffic;
Friday, November 7, 2008
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
disordered shadow--lands there stands a wall: men in riot helmets, carrying shields. The reporter speaks gravely; petrolbombs plasticbullets policeinjuries water-- cannon looting, confining himself, of course, to facts. But the camera sees what he does not say. A camera is a thing easily broken or purloined; its fragility makes it fastidious. A camera requires law, order, the thin blue line. Seeking to preserve itself, it remains behind the shielding wall, observing the shadow-lands from afar, and of course from above: that is, it chooses sides. job. A father, a man who likes his pint. He speaks: cannot--tolerate--no--go-areas better-protection--required-for--policemen see--the--plastic--riot--shields--catching--fire. He refers to organized crime, political agitators, bomb--
-- Cut. -- Sun-guns illuminate a new face, saggy-jowled, flushed. This face is named: sub--titled words appear across his tunic. _Inspector Stephen Kinch_. The camera sees him for what he is: a good man in an impossible
disordered shadow--lands there stands a wall: men in riot helmets, carrying shields. The reporter speaks gravely; petrolbombs plasticbullets policeinjuries water-- cannon looting, confining himself, of course, to facts. But the camera sees what he does not say. A camera is a thing easily broken or purloined; its fragility makes it fastidious. A camera requires law, order, the thin blue line. Seeking to preserve itself, it remains behind the shielding wall, observing the shadow-lands from afar, and of course from above: that is, it chooses sides. job. A father, a man who likes his pint. He speaks: cannot--tolerate--no--go-areas better-protection--required-for--policemen see--the--plastic--riot--shields--catching--fire. He refers to organized crime, political agitators, bomb--
-- Cut. -- Sun-guns illuminate a new face, saggy-jowled, flushed. This face is named: sub--titled words appear across his tunic. _Inspector Stephen Kinch_. The camera sees him for what he is: a good man in an impossible
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Benjamin Williams Leader The Last Gleam, Wargrave on Thames painting
Benjamin Williams Leader The Last Gleam, Wargrave on Thames paintingGustave Clarence Rodolphe Boulanger La Fille De Ferme paintingPeder Mork Monsted A River Landscape in Springtime painting
special-effects fantasy-movies (_Labyrinth_, _Legend_, _Howard the Duck_) entered the Real -- drove Saladin over to Pamela's place in the DJ's van; this time, though, he squashed himself into the cab along with the other three. It was early afternoon; Jumpy would still be at the Good luck," said Mishal, kissing him, and Pinkwalla asked if they should wait. "No, thanks," Saladin replied. "When you've fallen from the sky, been abandoned by your friend, suffered police brutality, metamorphosed into a goat, lost your work as well as your wife, learned the power of hatred and regained human shape, what is there left to do but, as you would no doubt phrase it, demand your rights?" He waved goodbye. "Good for you," Mishal said, and they had gone. On the street corner the usual neighbourhood kids, with whom his relations had never been good, were bouncing a football off a lamp-post. One of them, an evil-looking piggy-eyed lout of nine or ten, pointed an imaginary video remote control at Chamcha and yelled: "Fast forward!" His was a generation that believed in skipping , troublesome, unlikable bits, going fast-
special-effects fantasy-movies (_Labyrinth_, _Legend_, _Howard the Duck_) entered the Real -- drove Saladin over to Pamela's place in the DJ's van; this time, though, he squashed himself into the cab along with the other three. It was early afternoon; Jumpy would still be at the Good luck," said Mishal, kissing him, and Pinkwalla asked if they should wait. "No, thanks," Saladin replied. "When you've fallen from the sky, been abandoned by your friend, suffered police brutality, metamorphosed into a goat, lost your work as well as your wife, learned the power of hatred and regained human shape, what is there left to do but, as you would no doubt phrase it, demand your rights?" He waved goodbye. "Good for you," Mishal said, and they had gone. On the street corner the usual neighbourhood kids, with whom his relations had never been good, were bouncing a football off a lamp-post. One of them, an evil-looking piggy-eyed lout of nine or ten, pointed an imaginary video remote control at Chamcha and yelled: "Fast forward!" His was a generation that believed in skipping , troublesome, unlikable bits, going fast-
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Sewing the Sail painting
Joaquin Sorolla y Bastida Sewing the Sail paintingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Ninos en el Mar paintingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Leaving the Bath painting
adjudicate between them, to punish them when he was angry. Once when their quarrelling irritated him he forswore them all for a month. When he went to see "Ayesha" after twenty-nine nights she teased him for not having been able to stay away. "That month was only twenty-nine days long," he replied. Once he was caught with "Mary the Copt" by "Hafsah", in "Hafsah's" quarters and on "Ayesha's" day. He begged "Hafsah" not to tell "Ayesha", with whom he had fallen in love; but she told her anyway and Baal had to stay away from "Mary" of the fair skin and curly hair for quite a time after that. In short, he had fallen prey to the seductions of becoming the secret, profane mirror of Mahound; and he had begun, once again, to write.
The poetry that came was the sweetest he had ever written. Sometimes when he was with Ayesha he felt a slowness come over him, a heaviness, and he had to lie down. "It's strange," he told her. "It is as if I see myself standing beside
adjudicate between them, to punish them when he was angry. Once when their quarrelling irritated him he forswore them all for a month. When he went to see "Ayesha" after twenty-nine nights she teased him for not having been able to stay away. "That month was only twenty-nine days long," he replied. Once he was caught with "Mary the Copt" by "Hafsah", in "Hafsah's" quarters and on "Ayesha's" day. He begged "Hafsah" not to tell "Ayesha", with whom he had fallen in love; but she told her anyway and Baal had to stay away from "Mary" of the fair skin and curly hair for quite a time after that. In short, he had fallen prey to the seductions of becoming the secret, profane mirror of Mahound; and he had begun, once again, to write.
The poetry that came was the sweetest he had ever written. Sometimes when he was with Ayesha he felt a slowness come over him, a heaviness, and he had to lie down. "It's strange," he told her. "It is as if I see myself standing beside
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Eric Wallis Dressing in White painting
Eric Wallis Dressing in White paintingRaphael Madonna and Child with Book paintingWassily Kandinsky Color Study of Squares painting
limitations, -- so to speak, disregards its own rules, but that is too free, I am thinking . . 'that thing', at any rate, Lucretius holds, 'by doing so brings immediate death to its old self'. However," up went the ex-- schoolmaster's finger, "poet Ovid, in the _Metamorphoses_, takes diametrically opposed view. He avers thus: 'As yielding wax' -- heated, you see, possibly for the sealing of documents or such, -- 'is stamped with new designs And changes shape and seems not still the same, Yet is indeed the same, even so our souls,' -- you hear, good sir? Our spirits! Our immorpresently varying form." "This is pretty cold comfort," Chamcha managed a trace of his old dryness. "Either I accept Lucretius and conclude that some demonic tal essences! -- 'Are still the same forever, but adopt In their migrations ever-varying forms.'"
He was hopping, now, from foot to foot, full of the thrill of the old words. "For me it is always Ovid over Lucretius," he stated. "Your soul, my good poor dear sir, is the same. Only in its migration it has adopted this
limitations, -- so to speak, disregards its own rules, but that is too free, I am thinking . . 'that thing', at any rate, Lucretius holds, 'by doing so brings immediate death to its old self'. However," up went the ex-- schoolmaster's finger, "poet Ovid, in the _Metamorphoses_, takes diametrically opposed view. He avers thus: 'As yielding wax' -- heated, you see, possibly for the sealing of documents or such, -- 'is stamped with new designs And changes shape and seems not still the same, Yet is indeed the same, even so our souls,' -- you hear, good sir? Our spirits! Our immorpresently varying form." "This is pretty cold comfort," Chamcha managed a trace of his old dryness. "Either I accept Lucretius and conclude that some demonic tal essences! -- 'Are still the same forever, but adopt In their migrations ever-varying forms.'"
He was hopping, now, from foot to foot, full of the thrill of the old words. "For me it is always Ovid over Lucretius," he stated. "Your soul, my good poor dear sir, is the same. Only in its migration it has adopted this
Monday, November 3, 2008
Marc Chagall The Fall of Icarus painting
Marc Chagall The Fall of Icarus paintingMarc Chagall The Birthday paintingMarc Chagall Bridges over the Seine painting
these old zamindar houses had survived the egalitarian depredations of the present, and accordingly there hung over Peristan something of the musty air of a museum, even though -- or perhaps because -- Mirza Saeed took great pride in the old place and had spent lavishly to keep it in trim. He slept under a high canopy of worked and beaten brass in a ship-like bed that had been occupied by three Viceroys. In the grand salon heCorinthian tops, and there were peacocks, both real and stone, strolling on the main steps to the house, and Venetian chandeliers tinkling in the hail. The original punkahs were still in full working order, all their operating cords travelling by way of pulleys and holes in walls and floors to a little, airless boot-room where the punkah-wallah sat and tugged the lot together, trapped in the irony of liked to sit with Mishal and Mrs. Qureishi in the unusual three-way love seat. At one end of this room a colossal Shiraz carpet stood rolled up, on wooden blocks, awaiting the glamorous reception which would merit its unfurling, and which never came. In the dining-room there were stout classical columns with ornate
these old zamindar houses had survived the egalitarian depredations of the present, and accordingly there hung over Peristan something of the musty air of a museum, even though -- or perhaps because -- Mirza Saeed took great pride in the old place and had spent lavishly to keep it in trim. He slept under a high canopy of worked and beaten brass in a ship-like bed that had been occupied by three Viceroys. In the grand salon heCorinthian tops, and there were peacocks, both real and stone, strolling on the main steps to the house, and Venetian chandeliers tinkling in the hail. The original punkahs were still in full working order, all their operating cords travelling by way of pulleys and holes in walls and floors to a little, airless boot-room where the punkah-wallah sat and tugged the lot together, trapped in the irony of liked to sit with Mishal and Mrs. Qureishi in the unusual three-way love seat. At one end of this room a colossal Shiraz carpet stood rolled up, on wooden blocks, awaiting the glamorous reception which would merit its unfurling, and which never came. In the dining-room there were stout classical columns with ornate
Sunday, November 2, 2008
John William Waterhouse Mariana in the South painting
John William Waterhouse Mariana in the South paintingJohn William Waterhouse Flora paintingJohn William Waterhouse Dante and Beatrice painting
You should have heard him on the Falklands war," she said later, disengaging herself and fiddling with her hair. "'Pamela, suppose you heard a noise downstairs in the middle of the night and went to investigate and found a huge man in the livingroom with a shotgun, and he said, Go back upstairs, what would you do?' I'd go upstairs, I said. 'Well, it's like that. Intruders in . It won't do.' Jumpy noticed her fists had clenched and her knuckles were bone-white. "I said, if you must use these blasted cosy metaphors, then get them right. What it's _like_ is if two people claim they own a house, and one of them is squatting the place, and _then_ the other turns up with the shotgun. That's what it's _like_." "That's what's really real," Jumpy nodded, seriously. "_Right_," she slapped his knee. "That's really right, Mr. Real Jam . . . it's really truly like that. Actually. Another drink."
She leaned over to the tape deck and pushed a button. Jesus, Jumpy thought, _Boney M?_ Give me a break. For all her tough, race--professional
You should have heard him on the Falklands war," she said later, disengaging herself and fiddling with her hair. "'Pamela, suppose you heard a noise downstairs in the middle of the night and went to investigate and found a huge man in the livingroom with a shotgun, and he said, Go back upstairs, what would you do?' I'd go upstairs, I said. 'Well, it's like that. Intruders in . It won't do.' Jumpy noticed her fists had clenched and her knuckles were bone-white. "I said, if you must use these blasted cosy metaphors, then get them right. What it's _like_ is if two people claim they own a house, and one of them is squatting the place, and _then_ the other turns up with the shotgun. That's what it's _like_." "That's what's really real," Jumpy nodded, seriously. "_Right_," she slapped his knee. "That's really right, Mr. Real Jam . . . it's really truly like that. Actually. Another drink."
She leaned over to the tape deck and pushed a button. Jesus, Jumpy thought, _Boney M?_ Give me a break. For all her tough, race--professional
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