Jack Vettriano Working the Lounge

others nodded. No‑one really wanted to attempt to beat up the Librarian if there was anyone smaller available.
'What about the dwarf?'
'Ah.''I tink what he said,' said Cliff, 'was dat he'd give us twenty dollars with interest.'
'Same thing, isn't it? And he said he could get us more jobs. Did you read the contract?'
'Did you?'
'It was very small writing,' said Glod. He brightened up. 'But there was a lot of it,' he added. 'Bound to be a good contract, with that much writing on it.'
'The Librarian ran away,' said Buddy. 'Oooked a lot, and ran away'Someone said they thought he was Glod Glodsson. Lives in Phedre Road somewhere–’Clete growled. 'Get some of the lads over there right now. I want the position of musicians in this city explained to them right now. Hat. Hat. Hat.'The musicians hurried through the night, the din of the Mended Drum behind them.'Wasn't he nice,' said Glod. 'I mean, we haven't just got our pay, but he was so interested he gave us twenty dollars of his own money!'

Jack Vettriano Lines of Sacrifice

to admit . . . I never had an audience like dat in my whole life,' said Cliff.
‘Oook.' ain't no financial wizard.'
'Hah, I'd just like to see '
There was a knock on the door.
Cliff sighed. 'Dat'll be Hibiscus again,' he said. 'Pass me dat mirror. I'll try to hit one out on de other side.'
Buddy opened the door. Hibiscus was there, but behind a smaller man wearing a long coat and a wide, friendly grin.
'Ah,' said the grin. 'You'd be Buddy, right?'
‘Er, yes.''If we're so good,' said Glod, 'why ain't we rich?'"Cos you do the negotiatin',' said Cliff. 'If we've got to pay for der furniture, I'm soon goin' to have to eat my dinner through a straw.''You saying I'm no good?' said Glod, getting angrily to his feet.'You blow good horn. But you

Thomas Kinkade Deer Creek Cottage

She'd wanted to save his life, and that was right. She knew it. As soon as she'd seen his name she . . . well, it was important. She'd inherited some of Death's memory. She couldn't have met the boy, but perhaps he had. She felt that the name and the face had established themselves so deeply in her mind now that the rest of her thoughts 'I can't help it,' said Buddy. He wanted to sleep, but a rhythm was bouncing around inside his head.
'I saw it too,' said Cliff. 'When we was walking here, you were bouncing along.' He looked under the table. 'And you is tapping your feet.'
'And you keep snapping your fingers,' said Glod.
'I can't stop thinking about the music'What'll you change it to?' said Glod.
'I thought . . . don't laugh . . . I thought . . . Cliff?' said Lias.
'Cliff?'
'Good troll name. Very stony. Very rocky. Nothing wrong with it,' said Cliff né Lias, defensively.
'Well . . . yes . . . but, I dunno, I mean

Marc Chagall The Three Candles

'Anywhere not here.'
In the dark to try.
The room's only other occupants were a troll and a dwarf. He was not at ease in their company. They kept looking at him.
Finally the dwarf said, 'Are you elvish?'
'Me? No!'
'You look a bit elvish around the hair.'
'Not ellvish at allll. Honestlly.'mounds of merchandise, something felt their departure.Imp had already admired the Guild buildings ‑ the majestic frontage of the Assassins' Guild, the splendid columns of the Thieves' Guild, the smoking yet still impressive hole where the Alchemists' Guild had been up until yesterday. And it was therefore disappointing to find that the Guild of Musicians, when he eventually located it, wasn't even a building. It was just a couple of poky rooms above a barber shop.He sat in the brown‑walled waiting room, and waited. There was a sign on the wall opposite. It said 'For Your Comforte And Convenience YOU WILL NOT SMOKE'. Imp had never smoked in his life. Everything in Llamedos was too soggy to smoke. But he suddenly felt inclined

Francois Boucher Brown Odalisk

There was a glint of metal, on the roof of the Tower 'Sergeant, who's on the Tower?' he said.
'Cuddy, sir.'
'Oh. Right.' He coughed. 'Anyway, captain . . . we all clubbed together and—' He paused. 'Acting-Constable Cuddy, right?'
'Yeah. He's reliable.'
The Claws scrabbled on the dirt.
'He drew his sword!'
'What did you expect? One minute the lad is on top of the world, he's got a whole new interest in his life, something probably even better than goin' for walks, and then he turns round and what he sees is, basically, a wolf. You could of hinted. It's that time of the month, that sort of thing. You can't blame him for being surprised, really.'
Gaspode got to his feet. 'Now, are you going to come on out or have I got to come in there and be brutally savaged?'Patrician's carriage was halfway towards Sator Square now. Carrot could see the thin dark figure in the back seat.He glanced up at the great grey bulk of the tower.He started to run.'What's up?' said Colon. Vimes started to run, too.Detritus' knuckles hit the ground as he swung after the others.And then it hit Colon – a sort of frantic tingle, as though someone had blown on his naked brain.'Oh, shit,' he said, under his breath.