Filippino Lippi Allegory

Filippino Lippi AllegoryBartolome Esteban Murillo A Girl and her DuennaCaravaggio The Incredulity of Saint ThomasGeorge Frederick Watts Watts Choosing
hand clamped on to the dwarf's head and Detritus pushed Cuddy behind him, but then the figure was running, running . Men. It's you that'd be the fool if you resist arrest.'
'Oh? I'm under arrest?'
'Only if you don't come with us . . .'

The Patrician was in the Oblong Office, staring out of the window. The multi-belled cacophony of five o'clock was just dying away.
Vimes saluted. From the back, Vetinari looked like a carnivorous flamingo.
'Ah, Vimes,' he said, without looking around, 'come towards them, still firing.Detritus blinked.Five more shots, one after another, punctured his breastplate.And then the running man was through the open door, slamming it behind him. 'Captain Vimes?'He looked up. It was Captain Quirke of the Day Watch, with a couple of his men behind him.'Yes?''You come with us. And give me your sword.''What?''I think you heard me, captain.''Look, it's me, Quirke. Sam Vimes? Don't be a fool.''I ain't a fool. I've got men with crossbows

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Too Early

James Jacques Joseph Tissot Too EarlyHenri Rousseau Woman Walking in an Exotic ForestHenri Rousseau warHenri Rousseau Two Monkeys in the Jungle
YOU. 'Hright,' said Sergeant .Colon, 'this, men, is your truncheon, also nomenclatured your night stick or baton of office.' He paused while he tried to remember his army days, and brightened up.'Hand you will look after hit,' he was a pause while they picked up Corporal Nobbs and patted him on the back until he settled down.
'Very well,' said Sergeant Colon, 'what you must do now is take your truncheon like so, and on the command one, proceed smartly to Harthur and on the command two, tap him smartly upon the bonce. Hwun . . . two . . .'
The truncheon bounced off Arthur's helmet.
'Very good, only one thing wrong. Anyone tell me what it was?'
They shook their heads.
'From behind,' said Sergeant Colon. 'You hit 'em from behind. No sense in risking trouble, is there? Now you have a go, Lance-Constable Cuddy.'
'But sarge—'
'Do it.'shouted. 'You will eat with hit, you will sleep with hit, you—'' 'Scuse me.''Who said that?''Down here. It's me, Lance-Constable Cuddy.''Yes, pilgrim?''How do we eat with it, sergeant?'Sergeant Colon's wound-up machismo wound down. He was suspicious of Lance-Constable Cuddy. He strongly suspected Lance-Constable Cuddy was a trouble-maker.'What?''Well, do we use it as a knife or a fork or cut in half for chopsticks or what?''What are you talking about?'

Vincent van Gogh The Yellow House

Vincent van Gogh The Yellow HouseLeonardo da Vinci Virgin of the RocksLeonardo da Vinci St John the Baptist
stared woodenly at the wall.
He ought to be people, greatest of cities on the Discworld, located on either side of the river Ankh, a waterway so muddy that it looks as if it is flowing upside down.
And visitors say: how does such a big city exist? What keeps it going? Since it's got a river you can chew, where does the drinking water come from? What is, in fact, the basis of its civic economy? How come it, against all probability, workshappy, he told himself. And he was. In a way. Definitely. Happy as anything.He was going to get married in a few days.He was going to stop being a guard.He was going to be a gentleman of leisure.He took off his copper badge and buffed it absent-mindedly on the edge of his cloak. Then he held it up so that the light glinted off the patina'd surface. AMCW No.177. He sometimes wondered how many other guards had had the badge before him.Well, now someone was going to have it after him. This is Ankh-Morpork, Citie of One Thousand Surprises (according to the Guild of Merchants' guidebook). What more need be said? A sprawling place, home to a million

Andy Warhol Shadows I

Andy Warhol Shadows IAndy Warhol OxidationAndy Warhol NeuschwansteinAndy Warhol Knives black and white
are many recipes for the flat round loaves of Lancre dwarf bread,
but the common aim of all of them is to make a field ration that is long-
lasting, easily packed, and can disembowel the enemy if skimmed through
the air hard enough. Edibility is a kind of optional extra. Most recipes are
a closely guarded secret, apart from the gravel.
251
Terry Pratchett
“You’re not me, from some-where in the back pocket of his genes.
“Hiho, hiho—“
Nanny Ogg grinned in the darkness.
The tunnel opened into a cavern. The torchlight picked up the suggestion of distant walls.
“This it?” said Casanunda, gripping the crowbar..”“Tell you what—I’ll bake ‘em with extra gravel.”“Ooh . .. you’re a temptress, Mrs. Ogg.”“And bring the torches.”The caves were dry, and warm. Casanunda trotted along after Nanny, anxious to stay in the torchlight.“You haven’t been down here before?”“No, but I know the way.”After a while Casanunda began to feel better. The caves were better than wardrobes. For one thing, you weren’t trip-ping over shoes all the time, and there probably wasn’t much chance of a sword-wielding husband opening the door.In fact, he began to feel happy.The words rose unbidden into his head

Thomas Kinkade New Horizons

Thomas Kinkade New HorizonsThomas Kinkade Mountain MemoriesThomas Kinkade Living Waters
have to be. So there’s thousands of me out there who never became a wizard, just like there’s thousands of you who, oh, answered letters. Hah! To them, we’re something that might have been. Now, d’you call that proper thinking for a growing lad? When / started wizard-ing, old ‘Tudgy’ Spold was Archchancellor, and if any young wizard’d even mentioned that sort of daft thing, he’d feel a staff across his backside. Hah!”
184
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Somewhere far below, a frog plopped off a stone.
“Mind you, I suppose we’ve all passed a lot of water
since then.”
It dawned gently on Ridcully that the dialogue had become a monologue. He turned to Granny, who was staring round-eyed at Ridcully deflated a little.
“Can’t,” he said.
“You did it just now.”
“That’s the point. I wasn’t joking when I said I couldn’t do it again. It takes a lot out of you, transmigrationthe river as if she’d never seen water before.“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” she said.“I beg your pardon? I was only—““Not you. I wasn’t talking to you. Stupid! I’ve been stupid. But I ain’t been daft! Hah! And I thought it was my memory going! And it was, too. It was going and fetching!”“What?”“I was getting scared! Me! And not thinking clear!Except I was thinking clear!”“What!”“Never mind! Well, I won’t say this hasn’t been . . . nice,” said Granny. “But I’ve got to get back. Do the thing with the fingers again. And hurry.”

Cao Yong FRIENDS

Cao Yong FRIENDSCao Yong FreedomCao Yong Day of LoveCao Yong COOL WATER
what the future meant. But she’d never heard of alternative pasts. She could remember hav-ing just gone through the stones, if she concentrated. But she could remember other things. She could remember being in bed in her own house, but that was it, it was a house, not a cottage, but she was her, they were her own memories... she had a nagging feeling that she was asleep, right now . . .
Dully, she tried to focus on Nanny Ogg. There was something comfortingly solid about Gytha Ogg.
Nanny had I ain’t having that
again. The thought of someone carrying off our Pewsey—“
“Even elves ain’t that daft. Never seen such a sticky child in all my life.”
119
Terry Pratehett
Granny pulled gently at Diamanda’s eyelid.produced a penknife.“What the hell are you doing?”“Going to put it out of its misery, Esme.”“Doesn’t look miserable to me.”Nanny Ogg’s eyes gleamed speculatively.“Could soon arrange that, Esme.”“Don’t go torturing it just because it’s lying down, Gytha.”“Damn well ain’t waiting for it to stand up again, Esme.”“Gytha.”“Well, they used to carry off babies.

George Stubbs Lion Devouring a Horse

George Stubbs Lion Devouring a HorseUnknown Artist Sea of Cortez Cabo San LucasLeroy Neiman Washington Square ParkLeroy Neiman The Brooklyn Bridge
at the fire distractedly with an iron bar.
“Oh, well, us had a big whirlwind on Hogswatch-
night and one of Mother Peason’s hens laid the same
egg three times, and old Poorchick’s cow gave birth to a
seven-headed snake, and there was a rain of frogs over in
Slice—“
“Been pretty “I should beat it up before it gets cold,” said Nanny Ogg.
49
Terry Pratchett
“Weren’t my fault. Mum! How could I stop ‘em?”
Nanny sat back in the chair, smiling happilynormal, then,” said Nanny Ogg. She refilled her pipe in a casual but meaningful way.“All very quiet, really,” said Jason. He pulled the bar out of the fire, laid it on the anvil, and raised his hammer.“I’ll find out sooner or later, you know,” said NannyOgg.Jason didn’t turn his head, but his hammer stopped in mid-air.“I always does, you know,” said Nanny Ogg.The iron cooled from the color of fresh straw to bright red.“You knows you always feels better for telling your old mum,” said Nanny Ogg.The iron cooled from red to spitting black. But Jason, ‘ used all day to the searing heat of a forge, seemed to be uncomfortably warm.

Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect Day

Thomas Kinkade The Beginning of a Perfect DayThomas Kinkade Sunset at Riverbend FarmThomas Kinkade Seaside Hideaway
Hardly anyone really believes in thunder gods any more . . .
Ow.
"Listen, friend. I've got no time for talking to some pantywaister in a sheet. Where's the gods of Ephebe and Tsort?"
lo, clutching at his nose, waved vaguely towards the center of the hall.
"You nidn't naf to ndo dat!" he said reproachfully.
Om strode across the hall.
In the center dome on top of the tiny Cori Celesti, he would undoubtedly see himself, looking down on an even smaller model . . . and so on, down to the point where the universe coiled up like the tail of an ammonite, a kind of creature that lived millions of years ago and never believed in any gods at all . . .
The gods clustered around it, watching intently.
Om elbowed aside a minor Goddess of Plenty.
There were dice floating just above the world, and a mess of little clay figures and gaming counters. You didn't need to be even slightly omnipotent to know what was going on.
"He hid by nose!"of the room was what at first looked like a round table, and then looked like a model of the Discworld, Turtle, elephants and all, and then in some undefinable way looked like the real Discworld, seen from far off yet brought up close to. There was something subtly wrong about the distances, a feeling of vast space curled up small. But possibly the real Discworld wasn't covered with a network of glowing lines, hovering just above the surface. Or perhaps miles above the surface?Om hadn't seen this before, but he knew what it was. Both a wave and a particle; both a map and the place mapped. If he focused on the tiny glittering
Om turned around.

Claude Monet Vase Of Flowers

Claude Monet Vase Of FlowersClaude Monet The women in the GardenClaude Monet The Picnic
iron device."
"Yes." The man took a deep breath-half-breath, half-gulp. "People say . . . the guards said . . . you have my father in prison and you might . . . I plead . . ."
Vorbis looked down at the man.
"But you fear," he said, "that I might have you thrown into the cells as well. You think I am that sort of person. You fear that I may think, this man has associated with heretics and blasphemers in familiar circumstances . . ."
The man continued to stare fixedly at the ground. Vorbis's fingers curled gently around his chin and raised his head until they were eye to eye.
"What you"Do we know where he lives?"
"Yes, lord."
"Good."
The inquisitor hesitated.
"And this . . . device, lord?" have done is a good thing," he said. He looked at one of the guards. "Is this man's father still alive?""Yes, lord.""Still capable of walking?"The inquisitor shrugged. "Ye-es, lord.""Then release him this instant, put him in the charge of his dutiful son here, and send them both back home."The armies of hope and fear fought in the informant's eyes."Thank you, lord," he said."Go in peace."Vorbis watched one of the guards escort the man from the garden. Then he waved a hand vaguely at one of the head inquisitors.

Paul Cezanne Five Bathers

Paul Cezanne Five BathersPaul Cezanne Boy in a Red WaistcoatPaul Cezanne Apples Peaches Pears and GrapesLaurie Maitland Symphony in Red and Khaki II
You got to remember there's three basic approaches to philosophy in these parts," said Didactylos. "Tell him, Urn."
"There's the Xenoists," said Urn promptly. "They say the world is basically complex and random. And there's the Ibidians. They say the world is basically simple and follows certain fundamental rules."
"And there's .
Omnia was based on one book. And here were . . . hundreds . . .
"Well, they can if they want," said Urn. "But no one comes in here much. These aren't books for reading. They're more for writing."
"Wisdom of the ages, this," said Didactylos. "Got to write a book, see, to prove you're a philosopher. Then you get your scroll and free official philosopher's loofah."me," said Didactylos, pulling a scroll out of its rack."Master says basically it's a funny old world," said Urn."And doesn't contain enough to drink," said Didactylos."And doesn't contain enough to drink.""Gods," said Didactylos, half to himself. He pulled out another scroll. "You want to know about gods? Here's Xeno's Reflections, and old Aristocrates' Platitudes, and Ibid's bloody stupid Discourses, and Legibus's Geometries and Hierarch's Theologies . . . "Didactylos's fingers danced across the racks. More dust filled the air."These are all books?" said Brutha."Oh, yes. Everyone writes 'em here. You just can't stop the buggers.""And people can read them?" said Brutha

Henri Matisse Pink Nude

Henri Matisse Pink NudeHenri Matisse OdalisquesHenri Matisse OdalisqueHenri Matisse Music
Fortunately, the same awareness of shapes that made the tortoise so prominent in a square full of scurrying humans and ushered Brutha into a small, barely furnished room. He pointed meaningfully at a stool.
Brutha sat down. The priest vanished behind a curtain. Brutha took one glance around the room and-
Blackness engulfed him. Before he could move, and Brutha's reflexes were not well coordinated at the best of times, a voice by his ear said, "Now, brother, do not panic. I order you not to panic."
There was cloth in front of Brutha's face.
"Just nod, boy."made the tortoise's one eye swivel upwards in dread anticipation.Eagles are single-minded creatures. Once the idea of lunch is fixed in their mind, it tends to remain there until satisfied. There were two Divine Legionaries outside Vorbis's quarters. They looked sideways at Brutha as he knocked timorously at the door, as if looking for a reason to assault him.A small gray priest opened the door

Caravaggio Madonna di Loreto

Caravaggio Madonna di LoretoThomas Moran Grand CanyonJean Francois Millet The sower
way away and, further off -
A column of and looking for his hat, an inner part of his brain had been observing, assessing, analysing and comparing.
Now it crept up to his cerebellum, tapped it on the shoulder, thrust a message into its hand and ran for it.
The message ran something like this: I hope I find me well. The last trial of magic has been too much for the tortured fabric of reality. It has opened a hole. I am in the Dungeon Dimensions. And the things in front of me are ... the Things. It has been nice knowing me.daylight.It hummed and swayed in the air, a three-dimensional hole into somewhere else. Occasional flurries of snow blew out of it. He could see skewed images in the light, that might be buildings or landscapes warped by the weird curvature. But he couldn't see them very clearly, because of the tall, brooding shadows that surrounded it.The human mind is an astonishing thing. It can operate on several levels at once. And, in fact, while Rincewind had been wasting his intellect in groaning

Camille Pissarro Rue de Louveciennes 1872

Camille Pissarro Rue de Louveciennes 1872Camille Pissarro Pissarro Hyde ParkCamille Pissarro Jardin Mirbeau aux Damps
chimera's technique was to swoop low over the prey, lightly boiling it with its fiery breath, and then turn and rend its dinner if it had a mind.
The hat and its wearer also strode purposefully across the rubble that had been the legendary Rhoxie to the foot of the tower of sourcery, their unwilling entourage straggling along behind them.
There were doors at the foot of the tower. Unlike those of Unseen University, which with its teeth. It managed the fire part but then, at the point where experience told the creature it should be facing a stricken and terrified vic­tim, found itself on the ground in the path of a scorched and furious Luggage.The only thing incandescent about the Luggage was its rage. It had spent several hours with a headache, during which it had seemed the whole world had tried to attack it. It had had enough.When it had stamped the unfortunate chimera into a greasy puddle on the sand it paused for a moment, apparently considering its future. It was becoming clear that not belonging to anyone was a lot harder than it had thought. It had vague, comforting recollections of ser­vice and a wardrobe to call its own.It turned around very slowly, pausing frequently to open its lid. It might have been sniffing the air, if it had a nose. At last it made up its mind,

Vincent van Gogh Vegetable Gardens in Montmartre

Vincent van Gogh Vegetable Gardens in MontmartreVincent van Gogh Vegetable gardens at the MontmartreVincent van Gogh Still life with a bottle of lemons and oranges
'What's he doing?' Spelter whispered.
'I'm not exactly sure,' murmured Carding. 'As far as we can understand it, he's creating a new home for wizardry'
Streamers of coloured light flashed about the indistinct ovoid, like a distant thunderstorm. The glow lit Coin's preoccupied face from below, giving it the semblance of a mask.
'I don't see how we will all fit in,' the bursar said. 'Carding, last night I saw-’
'It is finished,' a doorway instantly appeared. He marched out through it, leaving the wizards to follow him.
He went through the Archchancellor's garden, followed by a gaggle of wizards in the same way that a comet is followed by its tail, and didn't stop until he reached the banks of the Ankh. There were some hoary old willows here, and the river flowed, or at any rate moved, in said Coin. He held up the egg, which flashed occasionally from some inner light and gave off tiny white prominences. Not only was it a long way off, Spelter thought, it was also extremely heavy; it went right through heaviness and out the other side, into that strange negative realism where lead would be a vacuum. He grabbed Carding's sleeve again.'Carding, listen, it's important, listen, when I looked in-''I really wish you’d stop doing that.''But the staff, his staff, it's not-’Coin stood up and pointed the staff at the wall, where

Edward Hopper Carolina Morning

Edward Hopper Carolina MorningEdward Hopper New York New Haven and HartfordEdgar Degas Rehearsal on the Stage
passed.
He looked up as an elderly striped mattress was extruded from an upper window and flopped down on to the flagstones below. After a pause, apparently to catch its breath, it rose a little from the ground. Then it started to float Rincewind backed away until something touched the back of his legs and froze his spine. It turned out to be a stone seat. He watched it for some time. It didn't seem in any hurry to run away. He sat down gratefully.
There's probably a natural explanation, he thought. Or a perfectly normal unnatural one, anyway.
A gritty noise made him look across the lawn.purposefully across the lawn and bore down on Rincewind, who managed to jump out of its way just in time. He heard a high-pitched chittering and caught a glimpse of thousands of determined little legs under the bulging fabric before it hurtled onward. Even the bedbugs were on the move, and in case they didn't find such comfortable quarters elsewhere they were leaving nothing to chance. One of them waved at him and squeaked a greeting.

Thomas Kinkade A Holiday Gathering

Thomas Kinkade A Holiday GatheringCaravaggio The Entombment of ChristCaravaggio Boy with a Basket of Fruit
stopped.
‘I’m not breathing, am I.’ It wasn’t a question. She held a hand in front of her face and huffed on it.
NO.
‘I see. I’ve never enjoyed myself so much in all my life . . . ha! So . . . when
-?’MANY CHANGES.
‘I mean that I appear to be younger.’
THAT’S WHAT I MEANT ALSO.
He snapped his fingers. Binky stopped his grazing by the hedge and trotted over.
‘You know,’ said Miss Flitworth, ‘I’ve often thought . . . I often thought that everyone has their, you know, natural age. You see children of ten who act as though they’re thirty-five. Some people are born middle-aged, even. It’d be nice to think I’ve been . . .’ she looked down at herself, ‘oh, let’s say YOU KNOW WHEN YOU SAID THAT SEEING ME GAVE YOU QUITE A START? ‘Yes?’I GAVE YOU QUITE A STOP.Miss Flitworth didn’t appear to hear him. She kept turning her hand backwards and forwards, as if she’d never seen it before. ‘I see you made a few changes, Bill Door,’ she said.NO. IT IS LIFE THAT MAKES

Camille Pissarro Place du Theatre Francais

Camille Pissarro Place du Theatre FrancaisCamille Pissarro Landscape at ChaponvalSir Henry Raeburn Boy And Rabbit
they can find the time from their eternal family squabbles.’ And then he thought: well, what now? I’ve thought, and what am I going to do? Rush off, of course. But slowly.
The centre of the heap of trolleys was no longer visible. Something was going on. A pale blue glow hung over the huge out, it split and crumbled. White objects cascaded out, were caught by the wind, and fountained over Ankh-Morpork and the watching crowds.
One of them zig-zagged gently down across the rooftops and landed at the feet of Windle Poons as he lurched outside the Library. It was still damp, and there was writing on it. At least, an attempt at writing. It looked like the strange organic inscription of the snowflake balls - words created by something that was not at all at home with words:
Sole S~l~ I I solre !~~
d b,pyramid of twisted metal, and there were occasional flashes of lightning deep within the pile. Trolleys slammed into it like asteroids accreting around the core of a new planet, but a few arrivals did something else. They headed for tunnels that had opened within the structure, and disappeared into the glittering core. Then there was a movement at the tip of the mountain and something thrust its way up through the broken metal. Et, was a glistening spike, supporting a globe about two metres across. It did nothing very much for a minute or two and then, as the breeze dried it

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with Monkeys

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait with MonkeysFrida Kahlo Self Portrait 1940Frida Kahlo My Dress Hangs There
was just a thought,’ said Ridcully.’Come on, let’s have a look at the rest of those heaps.’
‘Yeah!’ said the Dean, now in the grip of a wild, unwizardly machismo.’We’re mean! Yeah! Are we mean?’
The Archchancellor raised his eyebrows, and then turned to the rest of the wizards.
‘Are we mean?’ he said.
‘Er. I’m feeling reasonably mean,’ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
‘I’m masculine bonding-ritual overtones.’
‘What? What? Like “jolly good”?’ said Ridcully.
‘I suppose so,’ said the Senior Wrangler, reluctantly.
Ridcully was pleased. Ankh-Morpork had never offered very good
prospects for hunting. He’d neverdefinitely very mean, I think,’ said the Bursar.‘It’s having no boots that does it,’ he added.‘I’ll be mean if everyone else is,’ said the Senior Wrangler.The Archchancellor turned back to the Dean.‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it appears that we are all mean.’‘Yo!’ said the Dean.‘Yo what?’ said Ridcully.‘It’s not a yo what, it’s just a yo,’ said the Senior Wrangler, behind him.’It’s a general street greeting and affirmative with convivial military ingroup and

Caravaggio The Sacrifice of Isaac

Caravaggio The Sacrifice of IsaacCaravaggio The MusiciansCaravaggio St Jerome
surprised at their Archchancellor’s look of contrite embarrassment.’I’ve been busy. You know how it is.’
‘She said to be sure to remind you she’s expecting both of us over for lunch on Hogswatchday.’
‘I ,’ said Ridcully.’Now then, his Eminence the Chief Priest and
myself have decided -‘
The Dean glowered at a very small bishop.
‘He kicked me! He kicked me!’
‘Ooo! I never did, my son.’
‘You bloody well did,’ the Dean hissed. ‘Sideways, so they wouldn’t see!’ ‘- have decided -‘ repeated Ridcully, glaring haven’t forgotten,’ said Ridcully, glumly. ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ He turned to the melee behind them.‘Cut it out, you fellows,’ he said.‘Brethren! Desist!’ bellowed the Chief Priest.The Senior Wrangler released his grip on the head of the high priest of the Cult of Hinki. A couple of curates stopped kicking the Bursar. There was a general adjustment of clothing, a finding of hats and a bout of embarrassed coughing.‘That’s better

Franz Marc Rehe im Schnee

Franz Marc Rehe im SchneeFranz Marc Reh im KlostergartenFranz Marc Pferd in LandschaftFranz Marc KüheFranz Marc Horse in a Landscape
health!’ said Windle Poons.
The Archchancellor drummed his fingers on the table.
‘Mr Poons, ‘ he said, ‘are you quite sure?’
Windle had gone off at a tangent.’Any more of these toturerillas? Not that
I flu epidemic over Quirm way, I’m told.’
‘Quite a storm last night, too. Lots of shipwrecks, I daresay, ‘ said the Lecturer in Recent Runes.
‘And of course it’s springtime, when you get a great many avalanches in the mountains.’
‘And plagues.’
The Archchancellor stroked his beard thoughtfully.call it proper food,’ he said, ‘dippin’ bits of hard bikky in sludge, what’s so specialabout that? What I could do with right now ?is? one of Mr Dibbler’s famous meat pies -‘ And then he died.The Archchancellor glanced at his fellow wizards, and then tiptoed across to the wheelchair and lifted a blueveined wrist to check the pulse. He shook his head.‘That’s the way I want to go, ‘ said the Dean.‘What, muttering about meat pies?’ said the Bursar.‘No. Late.’‘Hold on. Hold on,’ said the Archchancellor.’This isn’t right, you know. According to tradition, Death himself turns up for the death of a wiz - ‘ ‘Perhaps He was busy, ‘ said the Bursar hurriedly. ‘That’s right,’ said the Dean.’Bit of a serious