Volegov Vides florecientes

Volegov Vides florecientesVolegov Tuesdays StrollVolegov Tropical AfternoonVolegov Thoughts of Springtime
There were many Bagginses and Boffins, and also many Tooks and Brandybucks; there were various Grubbs (relations of Bilbo Baggins’ grandmother), and various Chubbs (connexions of his Took grandfather); and a selection of Burrowses, Bolgers, Bracegirdles, Brockhouses, Goodbodies, Hornblowers and Proudfoots. Some of these were only very distantly connected with Bilbo, and some of them had hardly ever been in Hobbiton before, as they lived in remote corners of the Shire. The Sackville-Bagginses were not forgotten. Otho and his would allude to the absurd adventures of his mysterious journey. The guests were not disappointed: they had a very pleasant feast, in fact an engrossing entertainment: rich, abundant, varied, and prolonged. The purchase of provisions fell almost to nothing throughout the district in the ensuing weeks; but as Bilbo’s catering had depleted the stocks of most stores, cellars and warehouses for miles around, that did not matter much.wife Lobelia were present. They disliked Bilbo and detested Frodo, but so magnificent was the invitation card, written in golden ink, that they had felt it was impossible to refuse. Besides, their cousin, Bilbo, had been specializing in food for many years and his table had a high reputation.All the one hundred and forty-four guests expected a pleasant feast; though they rather dreaded the after-dinner speech of their host (an inevitable item). He was liable to drag in bits of what he called poetry; and sometimes, after a glass or two,

Gauguin The White Horse

Gauguin The White HorseGauguin The WaveGauguin The SwineherdGauguin The Swineherd Brittany
SILENCE!" cried Voldemort, and there was a bang and a flash of bright light, and silence was forced upn them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Harry felt himself lowered onto the grass.　　　"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and there was a relish in his voice for the lie. "killed while trying to save himself - " 　　　But Voldemort broke off: Harry heard a scuffle and a shout, then another bang, a flash of light, and grunt of pain; he opened his eyes

　　　"You see? said Voldemort, and Harry felt him striding backward and forward right beside the place where he lay. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

　　　"He beat you!" yelled Ron, and the charm broke, and the defenders of Hogwarts were shouting and screaming again until a second, more powerful bang extinguished their voices once more.

Coolidge Kelly Pool

Coolidge Kelly PoolCoolidge His Station and Four AcesCoolidge Columbia BicyclesCoolidge A Bold Bluff
importantly, "and they start training you, then you've got to go careful."

　　　There was a little silence. Lily had picked up a fallen twig and twirled it in the air, and Harry knew that she was imagining sparks trailing from it. Then she dropped the twig, leaned in toward the boy, and said, "It is real, isn't it? It's not a joke? Petunia says you're lying to me. Petunia says there isn't a Hogwarts. It is real, isn't it?"　　　"Definitely," said Snape, and even with his poorly cut hair and his odd clothes, he struck an oddly impressive figure sprawled in front of her, brimful of confidence in his destiny. "And will it really come by owl?" Lily whispered. 　　　"Normally," said Snape. "But you're Muggle-born, so someone from the school will have to come and explain to your parents."

"It's real for us," said Snape. "Not for her. But we'll get the letter, you and me."

"Really?" whispered Lily.

Cole The Clove Catskills

Cole The Clove CatskillsCole The Clove Catskills ICole The Cascatelli Tivoli Looking Towards RomeCole Sunset of the Arno
The enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall was dark and scattered with stars, and below it the four long House tables were lined with disheveled students, some in traveling cloaks, others in dressing gowns. Here and there shone the pearly white figures of the school ghosts. Every eye, living and dead was fixed upon Professor McGonagall, who was speaking from the raised platform at the top of the Hall. Behind her stood the remaining teaches, including the palomino centaur, Firenze, and the members of the Order of the Phoenix who had arrived to fight.
　　　Many of the students looked petrified. However, as Harry skirted the walls, scanning the Gryffindor table for Ron and Hermione, Ernie Macmillan stood up at the Hufflepuff table and shouted; "And what if we want to stay and fight?"
　　　"...evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madame Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges in orderly the evacuation point.

Kroyer Tarde de verano en Skagen

Kroyer Tarde de verano en SkagenRemington The AdvanceHooch A Mother and Child with Its Head in Her LapKroyer Holger Drachman
Harry, Ron, and Hermione's united voices echoed up and down the passage.

　　　"Yeah," said Neville. "That's how I got this one," he pointed at a particularly deep gash in his cheek, "I refused to do it. Some people are into it, though; Crabbe and Goyle love it. First time they've ever been top in anything, I expect."
another slash to his face, "for asking her how much Muggle blood she and her brother have got." 　　　"Blimey, Neville," said Ron, "there's a time and a place for getting a smart mouth."
　　　"Alecto, Amycus's sister, teaches Muggle Studies, which is compulsory for everyone. We've all got to listen to her explain how Muggles are like animals, stupid and dirty, and how they drive wizards into hiding by being vicious toward them, and how the natural order is being reestablished. I got this one," he indicated

Kinkade deer creek cottage I

Kinkade deer creek cottage IKinkade Cedar Nook CottageKinkade Brookeside HideawayKinkade Autumn at Ashley's Cottage
crown. "Search, fast!" said Harry as they all hurried inside the vault. He had described Hufflepuff's cap to Ron and Hermione, but if it was the other, unknown Horcrux that resided in this vault, he did not know what it looked like. He barely had time to glance around, however, before there was a muffled clunk from behind them: The door had reappeared, sealing them inside the vault, and they were plunged into total darkness.
　　　Harry shone his lit wand around the vault: Its beam fell upon glittering jewels; he saw the fake sword of Gryffindor lying on a high shelf amongst a jumble of chains. Ron and Hermione had lit their wands too, and were now examining the piles of objects surrounding them.
　　　"No matter, Bogrod will be able to release us!" said Griphook as Ron gave a shout of surprise. "Light your wands, can't you? And hurry, we have little time!"

"Lumos!"

Guercino St Augustine

Guercino St AugustineGuercino St Francis with an Angel Playing ViolinMonet Monet The Waterlily PondGuercino St Marguerite
You have no chance," said Griphook flatly. "No chance at all. If you seek beneath our floors, a treasure that was never yours –"

　　　"Thief, you have been warned, beware – yeah, I know, I remember," said Harry. "But I'm not trying to get myself any treasure, I'm not trying to take anything for personal gain. Can you believe that?"
　　　"Wand-carriers," repeated Harry: The phrase fell oddly upon his ears as his scar prickled, as Voldemort turned his thoughts northward, and as Harry burned to question Ollivander next door. 　　　"The right to carry a wand," said the goblin quietly, "has long been contested between wizards and goblins."
　　　The goblin looked slantwise at Harry, and the lightning scar on Harry's forehead prickled, but he ignored it, refusing to acknowledge its pain or its invitation.

　　　"If there was a wizard of whom I would believe that they did not seek personal gain," said Griphook finally, "it would be you, Harry Potter. Goblins and elves are not used to the protection or the respect that you have shown this night. Not from wand-carriers."

Monsted Watering The Garden

Monsted Watering The GardenDawson Mayflower II on the Open SeasDawson Pacific RollersDawson Rollicking Days
Alas, who knows?" said Xenophilius, as he gazed out of the window. "Who knows where the Elder Wand lies hidden? The trail goes cold with Arcus and Livius. Who can say which of them really defeated Loxias, and which took the wand? And who can say who may have defeated them? History, alas, does not tell us."
　　　"But you have been misleading me, young woman!" said Xenophilius, now sitting up much straighter in his chair and goggling at Hermione. "I thought you were new to the Hallows Quest! Many of us Questers believe that the Peverells have everything – everything! – to do with the Hallows!"
　　　There was a pause. Finally Hermione asked stiffly, "Mr. Lovegood, does the Peverell family have anything to do with the Deathly Hallows?"

　　　Xenophilius looked taken aback as something shifted in Harry's memory, but he could not locate it. Peverell. . . he had heard that name before. . .

Li-Leger Mystic Journey

Li-Leger Mystic JourneyLi-Leger Modern Bamboo IILi-Leger Modern Bamboo ILi-Leger Manhattan Garden
Harry paused in the act of pulling on a jumper and glanced at the silent, motionless Sneakoscope on the table.

　　　"I'm sure I imagined it," said Hermione, looking nervous. "The snow the dark, it plays tricks on your eyes.... But perhaps we ought to Disapparate under the Invisibility Cloak, just in case?"
　"The Forest of Dean," she said, "I came camping here once with my mum and dad." 　　　Here too snow lay on the trees all around and it was bitterly cold, but
　　　Half an hour later, with the tent packed, Harry wearing the Horcrux, and Hermione clutching the beaded bag, they Disapparated. The usual tightness engulfed them; Harry's feet parted company with the snowy ground, then slammed hard onto what felt like frozen earth covered in leaves.

　　　"Where are we?" he asked, peering around at the fresh mass of trees as Hermione opened the beaded bag and began tugging out the tent poles.

　　

Rothko The Ochre 1954

Rothko The Ochre 1954Rothko The Black and The WhiteRothko Red White BrownRothko Red White and Brown c1957
was hard to make out what was engraved there, though there did seem to be a triangular mark beneath the nearly illegible name.

"Yeah . . . it could be. . . ."
there were several generations of the same Wizarding family represented in the graveyard: Harry could tell from the dates that it had either died out, or the current members had moved away from Godric's Hollow. Deeper and deeper amongst the graves he went, and every
Hermione lit her wand and pointed it at the name on the headstone.

"It says Ig – Ignotus, I think. . . ."

　　　"I'm going to keep looking for my parents, all right?" Harry told her, a slight edge to his voice, and he set off again, leaving her crouched beside the old grave.

　　　Every now and then he recognized a surname that, like Abbott, he had met at Hogwarts. Sometimes

Claude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil painting

Claude Monet The Seine At Argenteuil paintingClaude Monet The Picnic paintingClaude Monet Sunset painting
That's – that's pretty, Dolores," she said, pointing at the pendant gleaming in the ruffled folds of Umbridge's blouse.
　　It was Umbridge's lie that brought the blood surging into Harry's brain and obliterated his sense of caution – that the locket she had taken as a bribe from a petty criminal was being used to bolster her own pure-blood
　　　"What?" snapped Umbridge, glancing down. "Oh yes – an old family heirloom," she said, patting the locket lying on her large bosom. "The S stands for Selwyn…. I am related to the Selwyns…. Indeed, there are few pure-blood families to whom I am not related. …A pity," she continued in a louder voice, flicking through Mrs. Cattermole's questionnaire, "that the same cannot be said for you. ‘Parents professions: greengrocers'."

　　　Yaxley laughed jeeringly. Below, the fluffy silver cat patrolled up and down, and the dementors stood waiting in the corners.

　

Salvador Dali Sleep painting

Salvador Dali Sleep paintingJoseph Mallord William Turner Fishermen at Sea paintingJohannes Vermeer the Milkmaid painting
replied. "That was announced yesterday. It's a change, because it was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain has been educated at Hogwarts, but their parents had the right to a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status – meaning that they have proven to the Ministry that they are of Wizard descent – before they are allowed to attend."
angry: At this moment, excited eleven-year-olds would be poring over stacks of newly purchased spell-books, unaware that they would never see Hogwarts, perhaps never see their families again either.

　　　"It's . . . it's . . ." he muttered, struggling to find words that did justice to the horror of his thoughts, but Lupin said quietly,

John William Waterhouse waterhouse Ophelia painting

John William Waterhouse waterhouse Ophelia paintingJohn William Waterhouse Hylas and the Nymphs paintingJohn William Waterhouse Waterhouse Ophelia painting
have you changed that too?" she asked brightly.

"How did you know -?"

"Oh, just your expression," she said.

　　　Like her father, Luna was wearing bright yellow robes, which she had accessorized with a large sunflower in her hair. Once you get over the brightness of it all, the general effect was quite pleasant. At least there were no radishes dangling from her ears.

　　　Xenophilius, who was deep in conversation with an acquaintance, had missed the exchange between Luna and Harry. Biding the wizard farewell, he turned to his daughter, who held up her finger and said, "Daddy, look – one of the gnomes actually bit me."

　　　"How wonderful! Gnome saliva is enormously beneficial." Said Mr. Lovegood, seizing Luna's outstretched fingers and examining the bleeding

Johannes Vermeer the Milkmaid painting

Johannes Vermeer the Milkmaid paintingJohannes Vermeer The Love letter paintingJohannes Vermeer The Concert painting
watching her, and Harry looked from one to the other, unable to say anything. The measure they had taken to protect their families made him realize, more than anything else could have done, that they really were going to come with him and that they knew exactly how dangerous that would be. He wanted to tell them what that meant to him, but he simply could not find words important enough.

　　　Through the silence came the muffled sounds of Mrs. Weasley shouting from four floors below.

　　　"Fleur's sister's a bridesmaid, she needs to be here for the rehearsal, and she's too young to come on her own," said Hermione, as she pored

Dirck Bouts paintings

Dirck Bouts paintings
Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings
The Montreal Protocol regulating these substances is 20 years old this week. Member countries of the Montreal Protocol are meeting soon to review progress. Farman says that we need a much faster phase-out of ozone-destroying chemicals, and for the safe destruction of current stockpiles. Senior figures in the UN, as well as European and US politicians, are starting to listen.
Daniel Ridgway Knight paintings
The 1987 Montreal Protocol was designed to phase out chemicals such as chlorofluorocarbons which were found to be depleting the ozone layer in the Earth's stratosphere. Industrialized nations phased out almost all CFC production in 1995, with developing countries having a deadline of 2010.
Many of the substances, used in applications such as refrigeration, aerosols and fire-fighting, have been replaced with related families of chemicals including hydrochlorofluorocarbons (HCFCs). These chemicals are less destructive to the ozone layer, but because production in the developing world is now increasing rapidly, there is renewed concern about their impact.

Gustave Courbet Plage de Normandie painting

Gustave Courbet Plage de Normandie paintingThomas Kinkade HOMETOWN MORNING paintingThomas Kinkade HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS painting
pulse on the monitor screen; saw doctor and nurses pounding his father's chest; saw defeat.
The last thing he had seen in his father's face, just before the medical staff's final, useless effort, was the dawning of a terror so profound that it chilled Salahuddin to the bone. What had he seen? What was it that waited for him, for all of us, that brought such fear to a brave man's eyes? -- Now, when it was over, he returned to Changez's bedside; and saw his father's mouth curved upwards, in a smile.
He caressed those sweet cheeks. _I didn't shave him today. He died with stubble on his chin_. How cold his face was already; but the brain, the brain retained a little warmth. They had stuffed cottonwool into his nostrilssuppose there's been a mistake? What if he wants to breathe?_ Nasreen Chamchawala was beside him. "Let's take your father ," she said.
Changez Chamchawala returned in an ambulance, lying in an

Raphael Saint George and the Dragon painting

Raphael Saint George and the Dragon paintingPablo Picasso The Old Guitarist paintingPablo Picasso Girl Before a Mirror painting
Mecca he had been seized by a longing to walk with her a while, perhaps even as far as the sea.
As he took his place among the Titlipur villagers and fell into step with the man next to him, he observed with a mixture of incomprehension and awe that infinite butterfly swarm over their heads, like a gigantic umbrella shading the pilgrims from the sun. It was as if the butterflies of Titlipur had taken over the functions of the great tree. Next he gave a little cry of fear, astonishment and pleasure, because a few dozen of those chameleon-winged creatures had settled on his shoulders and turned, upon the instant, the exact shade of scarlet of his shirt. Now he recognized the man at his side as the Sarpanch, Muhammad Din, who had chosen not to walk at the front. He and his wife Khadija strode contentedly forward in spite of their advanced years, and when he saw the lepidopteral blessing that had descended on the toy merchant, Muhammad Din reached out and grasped him by the hand.
o o o

Edward Hopper El Palacio painting

Edward Hopper El Palacio paintingEdward Hopper Dawn In Pennsylvania paintingEdward Hopper Cape Cod Afternoon painting
-- and he had not, let's recall, arrived in this awkward spirit, but in feisty, pugnacious mood -- was that he had realized, on seeing Pamela, with her too--bright brightness, her face like a saintly mask behind which who knows what worms feasted on rotting meat (he was alarmed by the hostile violence of the images arising from his unconscious), her shaven head under its absurd turban, her time) she had given him, as a joke, the most horrible, cheap glass vase she could find, its colours a garish parody of Venetian gaiety. Twenty years later, when they were both successful and greying, she visited his and quarrelled with heavyweight and stretched out the slight until all the set's emissions, commercials, murders, -- shows, the thousand and one varying joys and terrors of the real and the imagined, acquired an equal weight; -- and whereas the original Procrustes, citizen of what could now be termed a "hands-on" culture, had to exercise both brain and brawn, he, Chamcha, could lounge back in

Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1508 painting

Leonardo da Vinci Leda 1508 paintingThomas Kinkade The Light of Peace paintingThomas Kinkade The Edge of Wilderness painting
chimeras of form, lionheaded goatbodied serpenttailed impossibilities whose shapes felt obliged to change the moment they were set, so that the demotic forced its way into lines of classical purity and images of love were constantly degraded by the intrusion of elements of farce. Nobody goes for that stuff, he thought for the thousand and first time, and as unconsciousness arrived he concluded, comfortingly: Nobody remembers me. Oblivion is safety. Then his heart missed a beat and he came wide awake, frightened, cold. Mahound, maybe I'll cheat you of your revenge. He spent the night awake, listening to Salman's rolling, oceanic snores.
Gibreel dreamed campfires:
A famous and unexpected figure walks, one night, between the campfires of Mahound's army. Perhaps on account of the dark, -- or it might be because of the improbability of his presence here, -- it seems that the Grandee of Jahilia has regained, in this final moment of his power, some of the strength of

William Bouguereau Rest painting

William Bouguereau Rest paintingWilliam Bouguereau The Rapture of Psyche paintingWilliam Bouguereau Cupid and Psyche as Children painting
Certain aspects of her education had been unaccountably neglected. One Sunday not long after her father's death she was buying the Sunday papers from the corner kiosk when the vendor announced: "It's the last week this week. Twenty--three years I've been on this corner and the Pakis have finally driven me out of She heard the word _p-a-c-h-y_, and had a bizarre vision of elephants lumbering down the Moscow Road, flattening Sunday news vendors. "What's a pachy?" she foolishly asked and the reply was stinging: "A brown Jew." She went on thinking of the proprietors of the local "C TN" (confectioner--tobacconist-- newsagent) as _pach yderms_ for quite a while: as people set apart -- rendered objectionable -- by the nature of their skin. She told Gibreel this story, too. "Oh," he responded, crushingly, "an elephant joke." He wasn't an easy man.
But there he was in her bed, this big vulgar fellow for whom she could open as she had never opened before; he could reach right into her chest and caress

Alphonse Maria Mucha Medee painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha Medee paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Heidsieck and Co paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Fruit painting
Shaandaar residents gathered in the night--kitchen for an impromptu crisis summit. While Hind hurled imprecations into chicken soup, Sufyan placed Chamcha at a table, drawing up, for the poor fellow's use, an aluminium chair with a blue plastic seat, and initiated the night's proceedings. The theories of Lamarck, I am pleased to report, were quoted by the exiled schoolteacher, who spoke in his best didactic voice. When Jumpy had recounted the unlikely story of Chamcha's fall from the sky -- the protagonist himself being too immersed in chicken soup and misery to speak for himself-- Sufyan, sucking teeth, made reference to the last edition of _The Origin of Species_. "In which even great Charles accepted the notion of mutation in extremis, to ensure survival of species; so what if his followers -- always more Darwinian than man himselfl -- repudiated, posthumously, such Lamarckian heresy, insisting on natural selection and nothing but, -- however, I am bound to admit, such theory is not extended to survival of individual specimen but only to species as a whole; -- in addition, regarding nature of mutation

Paul Cezanne Still Life with Kettle painting

Paul Cezanne Still Life with Kettle paintingPaul Cezanne Still Life with Fruit paintingPaul Cezanne Still Life with Flowers and Fruit painting
appears below them. The heat grows intense.
It is an immense landscape, reddish, with flat-topped trees. They fly over mountains that are also flat-topped; even the stones, here, are flattened by the heat. Then they come to a high mountain of almost perfectly conical dimensions, a mountain that also sits postcarded on a mantelpiece far away; and in the shadow of the mountain, a city, sprawling at its feet like a supplicant, and on the mountain's lower slopes, a palace, the palace, her place: the Empress, whom radio messages have unmade. This is a revolution of radio hams.
Gibreel, with the Imam riding him like a carpet, swoops lower, and in the steaming night it looks as if the streets are alive, they seem to be writhing, like snakes; while in front of the palace of the Empress's defeat a new hill seems