Leroy Neiman Washington Square Park

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was called the Wyrmberg and it rose almost one half of a mile above the green valley; a mountain huge, grey and upside down.This would mean that the "doves" had a wingspan slightly in excess of forty yards.


"I knew it," said Rincewind. "We're in a strong magical field."
Twoflower and Hrun looked around the little hollow where they had made their noonday halt. Then they looked at each other.
The horses were quietly cropping the rich grass by the stream. Yellow butterflies skittered among the bushes. There was a smell of thyme and a buzzing of bees. The wild pigs on the spit sizzled gently.
At its base it was a mere score of yards across. Then it rose through clinging cloud, curving gracefully outward like an upturned trumpet until it was truncated by a plateau fully a quarter of a mile across. There was a tiny forest up there, its greenery cascading over the lip. There were buildings. There was even a small river, tumbling over the edge in a waterfall so wind-whipped that it reached the ground as rain.
There were also a number of cave mouths, a few yards below the plateau. They had a crudely-carved, regular look about them, so that on this crisp autumn morning the Wyrmberg hung over the clouds like a giant's dovecote.

Jack Vettriano Dancing Couple

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Jack Vettriano Waltzers
Upon closer examination, most photogenic people (by that I mean anyone under twenty-five) have a sort of signature look, the pose they do in every picture—whether it’s on “The Great Wall” or at their grandmother’s house—that they know makes them look fabulous.
I have no.
2. Get a higher camera angle.
3. Be willing to pose for a lot of pictures till you find the look that works.
4. Hmmm. Her pictures still look better than mine.
Next up, Don Phillips, a fashion photographer. He says that working look. I have tried to create one, but I just end up looking pained. I figure it’s time to go the experts.First on my list is my friend Kari. She’s a twentysomething who has mastered her own signature pose and looks good in every picture she takes.“My pose was inspired by the Olsen Twins,” she said, “And it became kind of a joke: ‘Let’s do our Olsen Twins pose!’” She tried to coax me into trying it myself, with this advice:1. Tilt your chin slightly downward

Vincent van Gogh The Bedroom at Arles

Vincent van Gogh The Bedroom at ArlesVincent van Gogh Couple in the Park,ArlesLeonardo da Vinci Portrait of Ginevra de BenciLeonardo da Vinci Portrait Of A Young Lady
Number of Bel-Shamharoth, which was why a sensible wizard would never mention the number if he could avoid it. Or you'll be eight alive, apprentices were jocularly warned. Bel-Shamharoth was especially attracted to capable of a fair turn of speed, anyway. A speed which, once it had lumbered up to it, it could maintain for a long time. All Rincewind had to do was shake off his guards, fight his way out of the Tree, find the temple and steal the horse out from under whatever it was that Bel-Shamharoth used for a nose.
"The Sender of Eight has two for dinner, it seems." said Druellae, looking hard at Rincewind. "Who does that steed belong to, false wizard?"
"I’ve no idea."dabblers in magic who, by being as it were beachcombers on the shores of the unnatural were already half-enmeshed in his nets. Rincewind's room numbertethered outside, and it wasn't Twoflower's horse. For one thing, it was too big. It was a white charger with hooves the size of meat dishes and leather harness aglitter with ostentatious gold ornamentation. It was currently enjoying a nosebag.There was something familiar about it. Rincewind tried to remember where he had seen it before.It looked as though it was

John William Waterhouse Flora

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course."
"And you're not letting me go?" It was a statement.
Druellae shook her head. "You hurt the Tree. But you are lucky. Your friend is going to meet Bel-Shamharoth. You will only die."
From behind two come from?"


There was a vast empty space like a hall, its roof lost in the golden haze. The endless stair ran right through it.
Several hundred dryads were clustered at the other end of the hall. They parted respectfully when Druellae approached, and stared through Rincewind as he was propelled hands gripped his shoulders in much the same way that an old tree root coils relentlessly around a pebble."With a certain amount of ceremony, of course," the dryad went on. "After the Sender of Eight has finished with your friend."All Rincewind could manage to say was, "You know, I never imagined there were he-dryads. Not even in an oak tree."One of the giants grinned at him.Druellae snorted. "Stupid! Where do you think acorns

William Blake Songs of Innocence

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he returns safely to his Homeland you will not find me ungrateful. I shall probably even dismiss the charges against you. Thank you, Rincewind. You may go."
Rincewind decided not to ask for the return of his five remaining rhinu. He backed away, cautiously.
"Oh, and there is one other thing," the Patrician said, as the wizard groped for the door handles.
"Yes, lord?" he replied, with a sinking heart.
"I’m sure you won't dream of trying to escape from your obligations by fleeing the city. I judge you to be a Drum was a broil of fighting men, quite a number of them - a third and longer glance confirmed - in bits. Rincewind swayed back as a wildly thrown stool sailed past and smashed on the far side of the street.
Then he dived in.born city person. But you may be sure that the lords of the other cities will be appraised of these conditions by nightfall." "I assure you the thought never even crossed my mind, lord.""Indeed? Then if I were you I'd sue my face for slander." Rincewind reached the Broken Drum at a dead run and was just in time to collide with a man who came out backwards, fast. The stranger's haste was in part accounted for by the spear in his chest. He bubbled noisily and dropped dead at the wizard's feet. Rincewind peered around the doorframe and jerked back as a heavy throwing axe whirred past like a partridge. It was probably a lucky throw, a second cautious glance told him. The dark interior of the

Paul Cezanne Still Life with Fruit

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seemed to see a man looking out of his eyes, the sort of man she had met at Mrs. Coulter's, a subtle politician used to power. He was wearing a heavy gold chain around his neck, with a gaudy jewel hanging from it, and his claws-a good six inches long-were each covered in gold leaf. The effect was one of enormous strength and energy and to her. He was pretending he had a daemon. Then she knew she was safe.
She moved up close to the throne and bowed very low, with Pantalaimon keeping quiet and still in her pocket.
"Our greetings to you, great King," she said quietly. "Or I mean my greetings, not his."
"Not whose?" he said, and his voice was lighter than she had thought it would craft; he was quite big enough to carry the absurd overdecoration; on him it didn't look preposterous, it looked barbaric and magnificent.She quailed. Suddenly her idea seemed too feeble for words.But she moved a little closer, because she had to, and then she saw that lofur was holding something on his knee, as a human might let a cat sit there-or a daemon.It was a big stuffed doll, a manikin with a vacant stupid human face. It was dressed as Mrs. Coulter would dress, and it had a sort of rough resemblance

Caravaggio The Musicians

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need, or can’t really afford, whatever it is they’re selling. To them, common sense is the enemy; that’s why they always tell us that we ‘deserve’ their product. Of course we don’t actually need a four hundred inch flat to the researchers. For this study the participants knew the value of each of the wines and as you might expect, the vast majority scored the expensive wine highest, in terms of taste and pleasure, and the cheap wine at the other end of the scale. In order to make the study even more scientifically valid and objective, the researchers conducted MRIs on the participants to see if screen television, but as they quite rightly point out, you and I have worked incredibly hard lately and why shouldn’t we reward ourselves with a ridiculously large TV? Imagine how much better our lives will be when we get that bad boy up on the wall. Just look at the couple in the advertisement… they seem very happy.Back to the presentation…During his presentation, Wallace spoke of a study that was conducted at Stanford University in early 2008, where a group of subjects sampled two different wines; a cheaper wine ($20 bottle) and a more expensive wine (over $100). They then reported their feedback

Franz Marc yellow cow

Franz Marc yellow cowFranz Marc TigerFranz Marc StablesFranz Marc Foxes
don't know," said the first girl.
"They do," said the third, a subdued-looking child cuddling her rabbit daemon. "I heard 'em talking."
"Then they take us. There's about thirty, I reckon."
"More'n that," said the plump girl. "More like forty."
"Except they keep taking us away," said the redhead. "They usually start off with bringing a whole bunch here, and then there's a lot of us, and one by one they all disappear."
"They're Gobblers," said the plump girl. "You know Gobblers. We was all scared of 'em till we was caught...."
Lyra was gradually coming more and more awake. The other girls' daemonsus away one by one and that's all we know. No one comes back," said the redhead."There's this boy, right," said the plump girl, "he reckons-""Don't tell her that!" said the redhead. "Not yet.""Is there boys here as well?" said Lyra."Yeah. There's lots of

Paul Klee The Golden Fish

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opened the door to lead them out.
More corridors, and Lyra was tired by now, so sleepy she kept yawning and could hardly lift her feet in the woollysee, because her eyes were slow to focus, but they seemed about her own age, and they were speaking English.
"She's awake." slippers they'd given her. Pantalaimon was drooping, and he had to change to a mouse and settle inside her dressing-gown pocket. Lyra had the impression of a row of beds, children's faces, a pillow, and then she was asleep. Someone was shaking her. The first thing she did was to feel at her waist, and both tins were still there, still safe; so she tried to open her eyes, but oh, it was hard; she had never felt so sleepy."Wake up! Wake up!"It was a whisper in more than one voice. With a huge effort, as if she were pushing a boulder up a slope, Lyra forced herself to wake up.In the dim light from a very low-powered anbaric bulb over the doorway she saw three other girls clustered around her. It wasn't easy to

Leroy Neiman Marlin Fishing

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going to be a fog; and sure enough, as soon as they stopped, a thick mist descended. Lee Scoresby knew he'd see nothing from the sky, so he had to content himself with checking his equipment, though it was all in meticulous order. Then, with no warning at all, a volley of arrows flew out of the dark.
Three gyptian men were passing over her head. Pantalaimon heard before she did, and became a leopard and knocked her over, making her less of a target. Brushing snow out of her eyes, she rolled over to try and see what was happening, for the semidarkness seemed to be overflowing with confusion and noise. She heard a mighty went down at once, and died so silently that no one heard a thing. Only when they slumped clumsily across the dog traces or lay unexpectedly still did the nearest men notice what was happening, and then it was already too late, because more arrows were flying at them. Some men looked up, puzzled by the fast irregular knocking sounds that came from up and down the line as arrows hurtled into wood or frozen canvas.The first to come to his wits was John Faa, who shouted orders from the center of the line. Cold hands and stiff limbs moved to obey as yet more arrows flew down like rain, straight rods of rain tipped with death.Lyra was in the open, and the arrows

Henri Matisse The Blue Window

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No sooner did she see them than she longed to try them on again.
Once they were on, she had to go out on deck, and a minute later she opened the door at the top of the compan-ionway and stepped out.
At once she saw that something strange was happening in the sky. She thought it was clouds, moving and trembling under a nervous agitation, but Pantalaimon whispered:
"The Aurora!"
the most skillful dancer. Lyra thought she could even hear them: a vast distant whispering swish. In the evanescent delicacy she felt something as profound as she'd felt close to the bear. She was moved by it; it was so beautiful it was almost holy; she felt tears prick her eyes, and the tears splintered the light even further into prismatic rainbows. It wasn't long before she found herself entering the same kind of trance as when she consulted the alethiometer. Perhaps, she thought calmly, whatever moves the alethiometer's Her wonder was so strong that she had to clutch the rail to keep from falling.The sight filled the northern sky; the immensity of it was scarcely conceivable. As if from Heaven itself, great curtains of delicate light hung and trembled. Pale green and rose-pink, and as transparent as the most fragile fabric, and at the bottom edge a profound and fiery crimson like the fires of Hell, they swung and shimmered loosely with more grace than

Vincent van Gogh The Plain at Auvers

Vincent van Gogh The Plain at AuversVincent van Gogh The Night Cafe in the Place Lamartine in ArlesVincent van Gogh The good Samaritan Delacroix
Farder Coram and Lyra exchanged a look of alarm and wonderment, but only for a second, and then Farder Coram was hobbling out on his sticks as fast as he could manage, with his daemon padding ahead of him. Lyra came too, hopping with impatience.
The young Hawker's boat just a few minutes ago."
"Where's Peter now?"
"He's a tying up. It was him said I had to send for you."
"Quite right. Now, Jacob, can ye hear me?"
Jacob's eyes rolled to look at Farder Coram sitting on the opposite bunk, a foot or two away.
"Hello, Farder Coram," he murmured.man led them to a boat tied up at the sugar-beet jetty, where a woman in a red flannel apron held open the door for them. Seeing her suspicious glance at Lyra, Farder Coram said, "It's important the girl hears what Jacob's got to say, mistress."So the woman let them in and stood back, with her squirrel daemon perched silent on the wooden clock. On a bunk under a patchwork coverlet lay a man whose white face was damp with sweat and whose eyes were glazed."I've sent for the physician, Farder Coram," said the woman shakily. "Please don't agitate him. He's in an agony of pain. He come in off Peter

Edward Hopper El Palacio

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made captive.
"And then one evening the Turkish Ambassador was a guest at Jordan for dinner. And he was under orders from the Sultan hisself to kill my father, right, and he had a ring on his finger with a hollow stone full of poison. And when the wine come round he made as if to reach across my father's glasscouldn't be done in a day. To see Lord Asriel as her to be uncommon cunning. But we en't going to come back without our kids. Yes, Dirk Vries?"
A man stood up and said, "Lord Faa, do you know why they captured them kids?"
"We heard it's a theological matter. They're take over.
"Now I've made my dispositions according to custom, and if any man or woman seeks to disagree, they may do so freely."
After a moment a woman

Guido Reni Archangel Michael

Guido Reni Archangel MichaelGuido Reni The Archangel MichaelGuido Reni Salome with the head of St John the Baptist
manager for Google Book Search.
Unlike the version of Google Book Search for PCs, which displays scanned images of book pages, the mobile version and use a technology that does not require backlighting, which makes them easier to read in most light conditions. They also have longer battery
While mobile phones are good for quick access to reading material, their backlighted screens are “terrible for long-form reading,” said Evan Schnittmansimply displays text, allowing users to download printed material more quickly over wireless Several book reading programs are already available for the iPhone and other mobile devices, including Stanza from Lexcycle and the eReader from Fictionwise. They are quickly growing in popularity.But just as camera phones have not replaced digital cameras, smartphones are not likely to replace dedicated e-book readers like the Kindle or the Reader from Sony, analysts said. These specialized devices have screens about the size of a paperback book

Juan Gris Landscape with Houses at Ceret

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mouth and screamed. Pantalaimon, who always became a bird once on the roof, flew round and round shrieking rook shrieks with her.
The evening sky was awash with peach, apricot, cream: tender little ice-cream clouds in a wide orange sky. The spires and towers of Oxford stood around them, level but no higher; the green woods of Chateau-Vert and White Ham rose length, and then steadily smaller until it was a dot in the pearly sky.
She turned and looked down into the shadowed quadrangle, where the black-gowned figures of the Scholars were already beginning to drift in ones and twos toward the buttery, their daemons strutting or fluttering alongside or perching calmly on their shoulderson either side to the east and the west. Rooks were cawing somewhere, and bells were ringing, and from the oxpens the steady beat of a gas engine announced the ascent of the evening Royal Mail zeppelin for London. Lyra watched it climb away beyond the spire of St. Michael's Chapel, as big at first as the tip of her little finger when she held it at arm's

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But she put her palm over the ringing crystal anyway, and Pantalaimon fluttered ahead and through the slightly open door of the Retiring Room at the other end of the dais. After a moment he appeared again.
"There's no one there," he whispered. "But we must be quick."
an oval table of polished rosewood on which stood various decanters and glasses, and a silver smoking stand with a rack of pipes. On a sideboard nearby there was a little chafing dish and a basket of poppy heads.
"They do themselves well, don't they, Pan?" she said under her breath.Crouching behind the high table, Lyra darted along and through the door into the Retiring Room, where she stood up and looked around. The only light in here came from the fireplace, where a bright blaze of logs settled slightly as she looked, sending a fountain of sparks up into the chimney. She had lived seen the Retiring Room before: only Scholars and their guests were allowed in here, and never females. Even the maidservants didn't clean in here. That was the Butler's job alone.Pantalaimon settled on her shoulder."Happy now? Can we go?" he whispered."Don't be silly! I want to look around!"It was a large room, with

Peter Paul Rubens Virgin and Child

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in the past three hundred years."
A few minutes later, as the balloon drifted on, Lee saw first a lighthouse, then the curve of a stone breakwater, then the towers and domes and red-brown roofs of a beautiful city around a harbor, with a sumptuous building like an opera the size of a city, with not a teacher in sight; it was a world of children.
But they weren't the only presences there. Lee had to rub his eyes when he saw them first, but there was no doubt about it: columns of mist—or something more tenuous than mist—a thickening of the air… Whatever they were, the city was full of them; they drifted along the boulevards, they entered houses, they clustered in the squares and house in lush wide boulevards with elegant hotels, and little streets where blossom-bearing trees hung over shaded balconies.And Grumman was right; there were people there. But as the balloon drifted closer, Lee was surprised to see that they were children. There was not an adult in sight. And he was even more surprised to see the children had no daemons—yet they were playing on the beach, or running in and out of cafés, or eating and drinking, or gathering bags full of goods from houses and shops. And there was a group of boys who were fighting, and a red-haired girl urging them on, and a little boy throwing stones to smash all the windows of a nearby building. It was like a playground

Thomas Kinkade PARIS EIFFEL TOWER

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The premise is that a key holds some kind of secret that lets you unlock something," said Savage. "But it's a very funny secret, its a secret that can easily be seen."
Creating a new a mile away with high resolution camera and stealing keys with a shutter is small compared to the next generation of video cameras being installed.
"The real issue is the new digital video cameras shooting at 30 frames a second," said Tobias. "There are millions and millions of these cameras everywhere." If someone got their hands on sensitive parts of the videokey is easy enough that some locksmiths and security experts do it by sight alone. The locks the UCSD team broke were some of the most common in the country.Marc Weber Tobias, an attorney and security expert who has been picking locks since he was a boy, says the UCSD project does a good job of underscoring the insecurity of conventional cylinder locks. But the idea of someone standing up to

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difficulty in finding the right course among the swift-running streams, even though some of the banks had vanished under the milky-brown floodwaters. The temperature had disturbed the insects, and a cloud of midges made , where Lee drew in to the bank and tied up.
"There was a landing stage here," he said to Hester. "Remember the old seal hunter in Nova Zembla who told us about it? It must be six feet under now."
"I hope they had sense enough to build the village high, then," she said, hopping ashore.
No more than half an hour later he laid his pack down beside the every outline hazy. Lee smeared his face and hands with jimsonweed ointment and smoked a succession of pungent cigars, which kept the worst at bay.As for Hester, she sat taciturn in the bow, her long ears flat against her skinny back and her eyes narrowed. He was used to her silence, and she to his. They spoke when they needed to.On the morning of the third day, Lee steered the little craft up a creek that joined the main stream, flowing down from a line of low hills that should have been deep under snow but now were patched and streaked with brown. Soon the stream was flowing between low pines and spruce, and after a few miles they came to a large round rock, the height of a house

Maxfield Parrish daybreak

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You're going to have to tie my bandage again," he said to Lyra. "I don't care how tight you make it as long as it stops the bleeding."
She tore up a sheet and wrapped it around and around, clamping it down over the wounds as tight as she could. He gritted his teeth, but he couldn't help the tears. He brushed them away without a word, and she said nothing.
When she'd crouched in the lane that ran along beside the tree-shaded shrubbery in Sir the Cittagazze side, they were in a grassy park surrounding a classical villa that gleamed white in the moonlight. They'd taken a long time to get to Sir Charles's house, moving mainly in Cittagazze, with frequent stops to cut through finished, he said, "Thank you." Then he said, "Listen. I want you to take something in your rucksack for me, in case we can't come back here. It's only letters. You can read them if you want."He went to the bedroom, took out the green leather , and handed her the sheets of airmail paper."I won't read them unless—""I don't mind. Else I wouldn't have said."She folded up the letters, and he lay on the bed, pushed the cat aside, and fell asleep. Much later that night, Will and Lyra

Henri Matisse Still Life with Oranges

Henri Matisse Still Life with OrangesHenri Matisse Open Window CollioureHenri Matisse Blue Nude
the laughter it produces, sometimes being ticklish is just annoying. It has prevented me from truly enjoying pedicures and far too many back massage attempts have ended with me in a fit of giggles. Try as I might to fight it and take the focus off my jumpy nerve endings, the slightest brush against a certain spot is enough to make me squirm and we laugh, despite our discomfort?
A Physiological and Social Phenomenon
When it comes to the question of why certain parts of our bodies—feet, chest, lower backs, underarms, etc.—are more sensitive than others, some believe that it’s an evolutionary trait we’ve developed to protect ourselves from small
laugh uncontrollably. Why are we ticklish in the first place? Is it an inherited trait passed down from our ancestors or is it a learned social act? And why is it that

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left them to rescue their boats and pedal back to the beach, and went inside to make sosee if Will was awake. But he was still asleep, with the cat curled up at his feet, and Lyra was impatient to see her Scholar again. So she wrote a note and left it on the floor by his bedside, and took her rucksack and went off to look for the window.
The way she took led her through the little square they'd come to the night before. But it was empty now, and the sunlight on Lyra's shoulder."Maybe Specters," Lyra said."No! They said this was something angeli." he insisted. "Bet that's angels.""Shall we go in?"They looked up at the great oak door on its ornate black hinges. The half-dozen steps up to it were deeply worn, and the door itself stood slightly open. There was nothing to stop Lyra from going in except her own fear.She tiptoed to the top of the steps and looked through the opening. A dark stone-flagged hall was all she could see, and not much of that; but Pantalaimon was fluttering anxiously on her shoulder, just as he had when they'd played the trick on the skulls in the crypt at dusted the front of the ancient tower and showed up the blurred carvings beside the doorway: humanlike figures with folded wings, their features eroded by centuries of weather, but somehow in their stillness expressing power and compassion and intellectual force."Angels," said Pantalaimon, now a cricket

Leroy Neiman Into the Turn

Leroy Neiman Into the Turn
Leroy Neiman Olympic Basketball Leroy Neiman Roger Staubach
white Canadian Christian Lander, and coauthored with his Filipino Canadian friend Myles Valentin,[2][3][4][5] after Valentin teased Lander about his watching the television series, The Wire.[6]
The Klingon of citizens actually determine how the world works by the sheer force of their numbers. The similar words Urbis and Orbis also appear in the phrase Urbi et Orbi.
The Chinstrap Penguin (Pygoscelis antarcticus) is a species of penguin which is found in the South Sandwich Islands, Antarctica, the South Orkneys, South Shetland, South Georgia, Bouvet Island,Hamlet (full title: The Tragedy of Khamlet, Son of the Emperor of Qo'nos) was a project to translate William Shakespeare's play Hamlet into the invented language Klingon of the television series Star Trek. Fex Urbis Lex Orbis is a quotation in Latin. It means 'Scum of the city, law of the world.' It was first said by St. Jerome though is often attributed to Victor Hugo as he quotes it with approval in Les Misérables. The desires and needs of the lowest class

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Leroy Neiman Arnold Palmer at LatrobeLeroy Neiman American GoldLeroy Neiman American Bald Eagle
yet the once-ramshackle Wikimedia Foundation, the charity charged with guarding this great public resource, is edging towards a more professional structure under its ferocious executive director, a former Canadian journalist about boardroom in-fighting and about Wales's adverts, even though the costs of its hunger for bandwidth are rising exponentially as the site continues to grow and the records of changes lengthen. The foundation's with the organisation, particularly since bloggers reported delays in having his board seat confirmed at the end of last year.
At the very least, Gardner is trying to impose order on an extraordinary bureaucracy and to put the foundation on a firmer footing so that it doesn't require seat-of-the-pants fundraising efforts from Wales, who fronted an appeal to "keep Wikipedia free" in December that brought in $6m (£4.3m). The aim is to keep Wikipedia called Sue Gardner, who has been in situ since 2007. More than a few Silicon Valley gossips have begun to speculate

Leroy Neiman Mark McGwire

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the client would want me to. And I'd need some proof of who you were, anyway."
"Yes, I understand, but can you just tell me whether he's alive or dead?"
"Well… that wouldn't be confidential. Unfortunately, I can't tell you anyway, because I don't know."
"What?"
"The money comes from a family trust. He left instructions to pay it until he told me to stop. I haven't heard from him from to write, and I'll let you know what I can. But you must understand, I can't do very much over the phone."
"Yes, I suppose so. All right. But can you tell me where he disappeared?"
"As I say, it's a matter of public record. There were several newspaper stories at the time. You know he was an explorer?"
"My mother's told me some things, yes."
"Well, he was leading an expedition, and it just disappeared. About that day to this. What it boils down to is that he's… well, I suppose he's vanished. That's why I can't answer your question.""Vanished? Just… lost?""It's a matter of public record, actually. Look, why don't you come into the office and—""I can't. I'm going to Nottingham.""Well, write to me, or get your mother

Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup

Leroy Neiman Ryder CupLeroy Neiman 37th Ryder CupLeroy Neiman 18th at Valhalla
Nor do I," she said, "and I can't imagine what it might be. What do you think he's intending, Dr. Lanselius?"
He gently rubbed the head of his serpent daemon with his thumb. "He is a scholar," he said after a moment, "but scholarship is the other world with his master."
"Thank you. That's a good idea… I'll do it. And I'll go at once."
She said farewell to the consul and flew up through the gathering dark to join Kaisa in the clouds.

Serafina's journey to the north was made harder by the confusion in the world around her. All the Arctic peoples had been thrown into panic, and so had the animals, not only by the fog and the magnetic variations but by unseasonal crackings of ice and stirrings not his ruling passion. Nor is statesmanship. I met him once, and I thought he had an ardent and powerful nature, but not a despotic one. I don't think he wants to rule… I don't know, Serafina Pekkala. I suppose his servant might be able to tell you. He is a man called Thorold, and he was imprisoned with Lord Asriel in the house on Svalbard. It might be worth a visit there to see if he can tell you anything; but, of course, he might have gone into

Albert Bierstadt Bridal Veil Falls Yosemite

Albert Bierstadt Bridal Veil Falls YosemiteJohannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl NecklaceJohannes Vermeer Mistress and Maid
of the time, the unregulated heart of the global Internet is a mysterious place, governed by rules laid out in those confidential contracts between private parties. This time, though, Sprint took the unusual step of a filing lawsuit in Virginiaits roots back to 2002, when Cogent asked Sprint to exchange Internet traffic at no charge to either party, a common arrangement between similarly sized networks. At the time, Web traffic traveling between Cogent and Sprint was being sent through a third network, which Cogent found silly. A direct connection would be far more efficient.
Sprint said it would agree to a direct link--but only if Cogent paid for the privilege. No chance, retorted Cogent. A swap would benefit them both equally, Cogent argued, why should one side pay? state court, alleging that Cogent breached the terms of a previously secret contract that spelled out how the two companies would trade traffic between their networks. Cogent quickly counter-sued, laying out a very different version of events. The Cogent-Sprint feud traces

Jean Francois Millet Man with a hoe

Jean Francois Millet Man with a hoeThomas Gainsborough Mrs SheridanThomas Gainsborough Landscape with Cattle
Will had done. For Will's part, he admired the massive power of Lord Faa's presence, power tempered by courtesy, and he thought that that would be a good way to behave when he himself was old; John Faa was a shelter and a strong refuge.
"Dr. Malone," said all join them this evening to share their meal."
"It'll be our great pleasure to accept," said John Faa.
So that evening the people of three worlds sat down together and shared bread and meat and fruit and wine. The gyptians presented their hosts with gifts from all the corners of their world: with crocks of genniver, carvings of walrus ivory, silken tapestries from Turkestan, cups of silver from the mines of Sveden, enameled dishes from Corea.
The mulefa received them with delight, and in return offered John Faa, "we need to take on fresh water, and whatever in the way of food your friends can sell us. Besides, our men have been on board ship for a fair while, and we've had some fighting to do, and it would be a blessing if they could all have a run ashore so they can breathe the air of this land and tell their the world they voyaged to.""Lord Faa," said Mary, "the mulefa have asked me to say they will supply everything you need, and that they would be honored if you could

Andy Warhol Camouflage green yellow white

Andy Warhol Camouflage green yellow whiteAndy Warhol Brooklyn BridgeAndy Warhol Banana
Presently Will came up from the river, and then Mary came out of her house and offered them breakfast; and soon Atal came along, too, and the village came to them. The young mulefa children, without wheels, kept tarry netting to the riverbank and spread it out on the grass, and Mary showed them how to knot a new piece of cord where it was worn. She was wary, because Atal had told her that the families farther along the coast had seen large numbers of the tualapi, the white birds, gathering out at sea, and everyone was prepared for a warning to leave at once; but work had to go on in the meantime.
So they sat working in the sun by the placid river, and Lyra told peeping around the edges of their houses to stare, and Lyra would suddenly turn and look at them directly to make them jump and laugh with terror."Well, now," Mary said when they'd eaten some bread and fruit and drunk a scalding infusion of something like mint. "Yesterday you were too tired and all you could do was rest. But you look a lot more lively today, both of you, and I think we need to tell each other everything we've found out. And it'll take us a good long time, and we might as well keep our hands busy while we're doing it, so we'll make ourselves useful and mend some nets."They carried the pile of stiff