Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings

Alexei Alexeivich Harlamoff paintings
Aubrey Beardsley paintings
Andrea del Sarto paintings
with a false precocity or a false innocence; to tamper with the dates marking one’s stature on the edge of the door. I should like to think - indeed I sometimes do think - that I decorated those rooms with Morris stuffs and Arundel prints and that my shelves we’re filled with seventeenth-century folios and French novels of the second empire in Russia-leather and watered silk. But this was not the truth. On my first afternoon I proudly hung a reproduction of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers over the fire and set up a screen, painted by Roger Fry with a Provencal landscape, which I had bought inexpensively when the Omega workshops were sold up. I displayed also a poster by McKnight Kauffer and Rhyme Sheets from the Poetry Bookshop, and, most painful to recall, a porcelain figure of Polly Peachum which stood between black tapers on the chimney-piece. My books were meagre and commonplace - Roger Fry’s Vision and Design, the Medici Press edition of A Shropshire Lad, Eminent Victorians, some volumes of Georgian

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings

Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot paintings
James Childs paintings
John Singleton Copley paintings
had done in Newman’s day; her autumnal mists, her grey springtime, and the rare glory of her summer days - such as that day - when the chestnut was in flower and the bells rang out high and clear over her gables and cupolas exhaled the soft airs of centuries of youth. It was this cloistral hush which gave our laughter its resonance, and carried it still, joyously, -over the intervening clamour. Here, discordantly, in Eights Week, came a rabble of womankind, some hundreds strong, twittering and fluttering over the cobbles and up the steps, sight-seeing and pleasure-seeking, drinking claret cup, eating cucumber sandwiches; pushed in punts about the river, herded in droves to the college barges; greeted in the Isis and in the Union by a sudden display of peculiar, facetious, wholly distressing Gilbert-and-Sullivan badinage, and by peculiar choral effects in the College chapels. Echoes of the intruders penetrated

Gustave Courbet paintings

Gustave Courbet paintings
Guido Reni paintings
George Inness paintings
Betty’s passion for me. Funny what excites a young girl—with you a guitar, with Betty a ducking.”
“Well, I think that’s rather romantic. It sort of brings you and Charles closer.”
“Very close indeed. It was more than romantic. She was too young at the beginning—just a girlish crush. I thought she would get over it. Then, when I was wounded, she took to visiting me every day in hospital and the first day I came out—you won’t be able to understand the sort of exhilaration a man feels at a time like that, or the appeal lameness has for some women, or the sense of general irresponsibility we all had during the blitz—I’m not trying to excuse myself. I was not the first man. She had grown up since the splash in the lake. It only lasted a week. Strictly perhaps I should have married her, but I was less strict in those days. I married your mother instead. You can’t complain about that. If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t exist. Betty had to look elsewhere and fortunately that ass Albright turned up in the nick. Yes, Charles is your brother, so how could I help loving him?”
Soundlessly Barbara rose from the seat and sped through the twilight, stumbled on

Salvador Dali The Persistence of Memory painting

Salvador Dali The Persistence of Memory paintingSalvador Dali The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory paintingSalvador Dali The Crucifixion painting
move and for the first time tasted the sweet and heady cup of victory. “At least I’ve done something worthwhile in this bloody war,” he said.
When next he passed through Bari it was on his way to England, for the military mission was being wound up and replaced by regular diplomatic and consular officials. He had not forgotten his Jews, however, and, having with difficulty located them, drove out to a camp near Lecce, in a flat country of olive and almond and white beehive huts. Here they rested, part of a collection of four or five hundred, all old and all baffled, all in army greatcoats and Balaclava helmets.
“I can’t see the point of their being here,” said the Commandant. “We feed them and doctor them and house them. That’s all we can do. No one wants them. The Zionists are only interested in the young. I suppose they’ll just sit here till they die.”
“Are they happy?”

Arthur Hughes Asleep in the Woods painting

Arthur Hughes Asleep in the Woods paintingAlbert Bierstadt The Last of the Buffalo paintingAlbert Bierstadt Lake Mary California painting
almost every door—even to her there are forbidden places. Let us leave Scott-King then on the high seas and meet him again as, sadly changed, he comes at length into harbour. The hatches are off, the August sun seems cool and breathless, Mediterranean air fresh and spring-like as at length he climbs on deck. There are soldiers; there is barbed wire; there is a waiting lorry; there is a drive through a sandy landscape, more soldiers, more wire. All the time Scott-King is in a daze. He is first fully conscious in a tent, sitting stark naked while a man in khaki drill taps his knee with a ruler.
“I say, Doc, I know this man.” He looks up into a vaguely familiar face. “You are Mr. Scott-King, aren’t you? What on earth are you doing with this bunch, sir?”
“Lockwood! Good gracious, you used to be in my Greek set! Where am I?”
“No. 64 Jewish Illicit Immigrants’ Camp, Palestine.”
Granchester reassembled in the third week of September. On the first evening of term, Scott-King sat in the masters’ common room and half heard Griggs telling of his trip abroad. “It gives one a new angle to things, getting out of England for a bit. What did you

Alphonse Maria Mucha Dance painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha Dance paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Crucifix paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam detail painting
Sveningen,” she answered.
“You are one of us? Of the Bellorius Association?” asked Dr. Fe.
“I speak not English well. I come.”
Dr. Fe tried her in Neutralian, French, Italian and German. She replied in her own remote Nordic tongue. Dr. Fe raised hands and eyes in a pantomime of despair.
“You speak much English. I speak little English. So we speak English, yes? I come.”
“You come?” said Dr. Fe.
“I come.”
“We are honoured,” said Dr. Fe.
He led them between flowering oleanders and borders of camomile, past shaded café tables at which Whitemaid longingly looked, through the airport vestibule to the glass doors beyond.
Here there was a hitch. Two sentries, shabbily uniformed but armed for action, war-worn, it seemed, but tigers for duty, barred their passage. Dr. Fe tried a high hand, he tried charm

Thomas Moran Ulysses and the Sirens painting

Thomas Moran Ulysses and the Sirens paintingThomas Moran Mountain of the Holy Cross paintingThomas Moran Monterey Coast painting
learned about him was reprehensible; she fought him in the full confidence of a just cause, but she had no serviceable weapon. In six years of social Lucy had never met anyone the least like Roger.
“And he took care she shouldn’t meet us,” said Basil. “What’s more, she thinks him a great writer.”
This was true. I did not believe Basil, but after I had seen her and Roger together I was forced to accept it. It was one of the most disconcerting features of the for all of us. It is hard to explain exactly why I found it so shocking. Roger was a very good novelist—every bit as good in his own way as I in mine; when one came to think of it, it was impossible to name anyone else, alive, who could do what he did; there was no good reason why his books should not be compared with those of prominent writers of the past, nor why we should not speculate about their ultimate fame. But to do so struck us all as the worst of taste. Whatever, secretly, we thought about our own work we professed, in public, to regard it as drudgery and our triumphs as successful impostures on the world at large.

Salvador Dali Tiger painting

Salvador Dali Tiger paintingSalvador Dali The Rose paintingSalvador Dali Paysage aux papillons (Landscape with Butterflies) painting
expected from the sale of the house, relieved me of the need to work for two or three years; once the necessity was removed there was little motive for. It was a matter of pure athletics to go on doing something merely because one did it well. This tedium was the price I must pay for my privacy, for the choice, which until lately had been a matter of special pride with me, of a trade which had nothing of myself in it. The heap of foolscap began to disgust me. Twice I hid it under my shirts, twice the club valet unearthed it and laid it in the open. I had nowhere to keep things, except in this little hired room above the traffic.
As I returned from seeing Mr. Benwell, the club secretary waylaid me. Under Rule XLV, he reminded me, members might not occupy bedrooms for more than five consecutive nights. He did not mind stretching a point, he said, but if a member from out of town applied for a room and found them all engaged and wrote to the committee about it, where would he, the secretary, be? I promised to move out as soon as I could; I had a lot to attend to at the moment; perhaps he had seen that my father had just died. We both knew that it was

Jean Fragonard The Swing 1767 painting

Jean Fragonard The Swing 1767 paintingJean Fragonard The Bathers paintingAlexandre Cabanel Nymph and Satyr painting
Half a mile up the road from the asylum gates, they later discovered an abandoned bicycle. It was a lady’sWhen Mrs. Kent-Cumberland’s eldest son was born (in an expensive London nursing there was a bonfire on Tomb Beacon; it consumed three barrels of tar, an immense catafalque of timber, and, as things turned out—for the flames spread briskly in the dry gorse and loyal tenantry were too tipsy to extinguish them—the entire vegetation of Tomb Hill.
As soon as mother and child could be moved, they travelled in state to the country, where flags were hung out in the village street and a trellis arch of evergreen boughs obscured the handsome Palladian entrance gates of their machine of some antiquity. Quite near it in the ditch lay the strangled body of a young woman, who, riding to her tea, had chanced to overtake Mr. Loveday, as he strode along, musing on his opportunities.

Edward Hopper Nighthawks painting

Edward Hopper Nighthawks paintingFrederic Edwin Church Sunset paintingTitian The Fall of Man painting
dog I love him father minds dreadfully longing to hear about farm dont fall for ship siren all love Milly.
In the Red Sea he received another. Beware sirens puppy bit man called Mike.
After that Hector heard nothing of Millicent except for a Christmas card which arrived in the last days of February.

IV

Generally speaking, Millicent’s fancy for any particular young man was likely to last four months. It depended on how far he had got in that time whether the process of extinction was sudden or protracted. In the case of Hector, her affection had been due to diminish at about the time that she became engaged to him; it had been artificially prolonged during the succeeding three weeks, during which he made strenuous, infectiously earnest efforts to find

Albert Bierstadt Yosemite Valley painting

Albert Bierstadt Yosemite Valley paintingClaude Monet The Red Boats Argenteuil paintingClaude Monet Monet The Luncheon painting
So Bertie sends his love too. XXXXXX etc.
Mum bought a shawl and an animal made of lava.
POSTCARD
This is a picture of Taormina. Mum bought a shawl here. V. funny because Miss P. got left as shed made chums only with second officer and he wasnt allowed ashore so when it came to getting into cars Miss P. had to pack in with a family from the industrial north.

S.S. Glory of Greece
Darling,
Hope you got P.C. from Sicily. The moral of that was not to make chums with sailors though who I’ve made a chum of is the purser who’s different on account he leads a very cynical with a gramophone in his cabin and as many cocktails as he likes and welsh rabbits sometimes and I said but do you pay for all these drinks but he said no so that’s all right.
So we have three days at sea which the clergyman said is a good thing as it makes

Claude Monet Argenteuil painting

Claude Monet Argenteuil paintingFabian Perez Valencia paintingFabian Perez Sophia painting
food poisoning. Sarah Trumpery’s maid discreetly returned the travelling clock which the old lady had inadvertently pouched from among the wedding presents. (This foible of hers was well known and the detectives had standing orders to avoid a scene at the reception. It was not often that she was asked to weddings nowadays. When she was, the stolen presents were invariably returned that evening or on the following day.) The bridesmaids got together over dinner and fell into eager conjecture about the intimacies of the honeymoon, the odds in this case being three to two that the ceremony had not been anticipated. The Great Western express rattled through the sodden English counties. Tom and Angela sat glumly in a first-class smoking carriage, discussing the day.
“It was so wonderful neither of us being late.”
“Mother fussed so ...”
“I didn’t see John, did you?”
“He was there. He said good-bye to us in the hall.”
“Oh, yes ... I hope they’ve packed everything.”

Caravaggio The Supper at Emmaus painting

Caravaggio The Supper at Emmaus paintingCaravaggio Taking of Christ paintingCaravaggio The Incredulity of Saint Thomas painting
senses were only fitfully attentive, but gradually taking shape as the tangible objects about him gained in reality, until at length it appeared as a concrete thing, external but intimately attached to himself. Like the pursuit of quicksilver with a spoon, Adam was able to chase it about the walls of his consciousness until at length he drove it into a corner in which he could examine it at his leisure. Still lying perfectly still, just as he had fallen, with his limbs half embracing the wooden legs of the chair, Adam was able, by conscentrating his attention upon each part of his body in turn, to exclude the disordered sensations to which his fall had given rise and trace the several constituents of the bulk of pain down their vibrating channels to their sources in his various physical injuries. The process was nearly complete when the arrival of his nurse dissolved him into tears and scattered his bewildered ratiocinations.
It was in some such mood as this that, an hour or so after his awakening, Adam strode

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
Down in front!" someone called. At the same moment drums rolled, and I saw that the sun's lower limb had touched the horizon. A marching-band struck up a grave processional; way was made at the barricades for a vee of three black motorcycles, behind the foremost of which walked Max. Bent under the weight of a block-and-tackle rig, he moved with difficulty, but his face was alight. A gasp came from the stands: not at that pitiful spectacle, but at a sudden apparition at the base of the Shaft. One would have sworn its marble lines had been unbroken except for ominous ropes and pulleys; there were certainly no doors or other apertures in the masonry, or hiding-places on the little ledge around its base, and the whole monument was ringed by a moat or reflecting-pool said to be a meter deep and twelve wide -- yet in an instant on that empty ledge stood Harold Bray, black-cloaked, his arms held out to the approaching victim!
"How does he do it, Goat-Boy? Show us the trick!" Stoker's tone was half jeer and half dare, but perhaps there was something else in his eyes. I turned my back on him

Thomas Kinkade The Garden of Prayer painting

Thomas Kinkade The Garden of Prayer paintingThomas Kinkade Stairway to Paradise paintingThomas Kinkade Spirit of Christmas painting
Now sirens growled and motorcycles crowded up. -scientists, professor-generals, and Light-House aides, alarmed by signs of trouble in the Belly, swarmed about; student-demonstrators chanted, I could not hear what, "Give us the Goat," I supposed; a disorderly motorcade roared around from Great Mall and paused at the confusion. Commending Mother to Anastasia's care, I girdled my ragged fleece with the amulet-of-Freddie and issued forth. Shouts went up: it was indeed "Give us the Goat" that certain bearded chaps and longhaired lasses cried -- but not in anger. They were no more than half a dozen, fraction of a remnant of a minority, and clouted even by their sandaled classmates as they cheered; but their signs, I wept with gratitude to see, readAWAY WITH BRAY ! Their elders beset me at once with questions, threats, and mock. If I had ruined WESCAC, the military-scientists warned, I could expect a traitor's fate. . .
"I made a short circuit," I admitted calmly, drawing strength from my half a dozen. "But I don't think WESCAC's damaged." I actually hoped not, I added for my classmates' benefit; for although it stood between Failure and Passage, WESCAC therefore

Thomas Moran Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone painting

Thomas Moran Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone paintingThomas Moran Fort George Island paintingThomas Moran Cliffs of Green River painting
See if Fritz iskaput," Stoker bade the nearest of them, and pointed out with a laugh that not only had his "short-cut" from the Powerhouse been a potholed road, but he'd hadtwo prisoners in his sidecar, whereas his competitors, on the better road, had had but one between them -- fortunately not in Fritz's vehicle. He glared up at me in the swirling dust, as if he'd been expecting to meet me, on Croaker's shoulders, along his way (and indeed he had been, I later learned, my escorts having wirelessed the news ahead). His voice took an edge. "All's fair in love and riot, hey, Goat-Boy?"
I had nothing to reply and was anyhow distracted, as were my escorts, by the sight of his passengers. Slumped in the sidecar and blindfolded, they started up at mention of my name. Pocket-torches focused on them, and I was doubly surprised: Peter Greene it was, and Leonid Alexandrov, handcuffed together; their coats and faces were as bloodstained as the linen that bound their eyes -- not blindfolds after all, but bandages.
"Aren't they a pair?" Stoker demanded of his troopers, but with a smolder in his tone meant for me. "And look at Hans's."

Marc Chagall The Fiddler

Marc Chagall The FiddlerMarc Chagall The ConcertMarc Chagall La Mariee

Leon Bazile Perrault paintings

Leon Bazile Perrault paintings
Leon-Augustin L'hermitte paintings
Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Teats; familiar of that late legendary sire of sires, Brickett Ranunculus, the very dean of studs --I should deny my pedigree and heritage, my gait my garb my scent? Infirmity! My one infirmity, I saw now, was having thought such goatly gifts in need of cure, and that infirmity was overcome. Studentdom it was that limped: hobbled by false distinction, crippled by categories! I returned unflinchingly the stares of male and female undergraduates thronging the sidewalks, and reasoned one strong step further: my infirmity was that Ihad thought myself first goat, then wholly human boy, when in fact I was a goat-boy, both and neither: a walking refutation of such false conceits. If I chose, withal, to comport me goatly now awhile, it was not to deny my humanness (of what was the GILES decocted if not the seed of the whole student body?) but to correct it, in the spirit of my new advisings. To that end, as I drew near the Psychiatric Annex of the great Infirmary I goated it the more -- "went to the bathroom" where no bathroom was, as in pasture days; bleated twice or thrice

Jeffrey T.Larson paintings

Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Jules Breton paintings
Syncretist," someone muttered.
"Look here," I said cordially, and they fell silent at once. "I'm much obliged for your good opinion of me, even though you're mistaken. I'mnot the Grand Tutor; I failed my Assignment before because I took WESCAC on its own terms. That's what I want to consult The Living Sakhyan about, if you'll excuse me. . ."
They withdrew a little way, but begged permission to listen in on the dialogue, and I found the lot of them too lively and agreeable, on the whole, and their admiration too nattering, to refuse them. I was surprised to see that my denial of Grand-Tutorhood disturbed them not at all; ofcourse I denied it, they exclaimed in whispers; Grand-Tutorhood was a concept, like any other; if I didn't deny it I wouldn't be Grand Tutor! Didn't my criticism of WESCAC make that clear? They alluded to the parable of Milo and Sophie the heifer: to pass, one must flunk the Examiner. . .
As at our previous encounter, I was impressed by their acuteness; indeed, I remembered now that some of their remarks in that earlier term could

Cheri Blum paintings

Cheri Blum paintings
Camille Pissarro paintings
Carl Fredrik Aagard paintings
George Herrold did at once, with a chuckle, and stepped back. Max hesitated, stayed it may be by the sweat of excitement on my face; yet I had only to glance at him, and he too released me. As I had twice with Lady Creamhair and once alas before Redfearn's Tommy, I stood erect -- but this time I didn't fall. A very paroxysm of unsteadiness shook me, surely I must keel; Max stood ready to spring to my aid. I so far compromised my aim as to rest one hand on George Herrold's shoulder. But I didn't fall.
"He good as new," my rescuer scoffed. "Ain't nothing wrong with this chile."
Max clapped his hands together. "Billy Bocksfuss! Look at you once now!"
It was a gleesome thrill, thisstanding ; my heart ran fast as when I'd teetered on those barrels in the play-pound. But at my name I felt displeasure, like a pinch. Breathlessly I said, "I don't want to be aBilly now, or aBocksfuss , either one! I'm going to be a human student."
"Ja ja, you got to have a new name! What we do, we find a good name for you.Ay, Bill!" In the access of his joy Max embraced me around my chest

Claude Monet Impression Sunrise painting

Claude Monet Impression Sunrise paintingClaude Monet Argenteuil paintingFabian Perez Valencia painting
that I was never abused by guards and prisoners, who sometimes took advantage of my sticklessness, or that I never made use of the restless whores who climbed upon the bars to sport. In general, however, except for the pleasure of atonement with Max and the pain of learning what catastrophe my Tutorship had wrought, my season in Main Detention was as numb as it was timeless. So much so, I reconstruct with confidence neither the order of the several disclosures and events which follow nor my reaction to them. They took place, I see now, over a period of some forty weeks, but for aught I felt or valued time it might have been forty years, forty days -- or one long night.
The EAT-whistle that had postponed my end was a false alarm -- rather, a true alarm falsely construed. When Classmate X had broken off the Summit Symposium and in such dudgeon left the U.C. building, the Nikolayan and New Tammanian border-guards were each alerted to expect trouble from the other. Later that same day, on Lucius Rexford's orders, units from the School of Engineering had moved up to begin the task of relocating the NTC Power Line a full kilometer west of its former position and mounting extra

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam painting

Michelangelo Buonarroti The Creation of Adam paintingMichelangelo Buonarroti Creation of Adam paintingThomas Kinkade The Rose Garden painting
At the end of the corridor was a large domed room entirely given over to rows of catalogue-files laid out like the spokes of a wheel. In its hub, beneath a suspended sign which declaredTHE FINAL SCIENCE IS LIBRARY s , a large metal-cornered glass case stood empty but for its black-velvet bed. Anastasia gasped. "Itis gone!"
She meant the Scroll, ordinarily exhibited there. I twinged with distress: if it had been lost or stolen, to restore it to its place could take Founder knew how long! I insisted we learn what happened to it before pursuing our private which might have to be put aside anyhow if duty called.
"Maybe that's what the excitement's about," I suggested unhappily.
There being however no one in the room except ourselves, Anastasia pointed out that her mother was in the best position to answer this question as well as the other, since her office was adjacent to the card-files; she proposed we go to her at once, before she too should join the apparent exodus from Tower Hall; Anastasia would introduce me merely as the new Candidate for Grand-Tutorhood, and I could interview our mother undistracted on the matter of the Scroll before we disclosed our other concerns. I saw no