Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings

Lady Laura Teresa Alma-Tadema paintings
Louise Abbema paintings
Leonardo da Vinci paintings
backbone...’ - which left me fretful. Collins made notes for a little thesis pointing out the inferiority of the original mosaics to their photographs. Here was planted the seed of what became his ’s harvest. When, many years later, there appeared the first massive volume of his still unfinished work on Byzantine Art, I was touched to find among two pages of polite, preliminary acknowledgements of debt, my own name: ‘...to Charles Ryder, with the aid of whose all-seeing yes I first saw the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia and San Vitale...’
I sometimes wonder whether, had it not been for Sebastian, I might have trodden the same path as Collins round the cultural water-wheel. My father in his youth sat for All Souls and, in a year of hot competition, failed; other successes and honours came his way later, but that early failure

Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings

Dante Gabriel Rossetti paintings
Daniel Ridgway Knight paintings
Eric Wallis paintings
afternoon, nearly, he may be heard ordering his tea down the Carlton Club telephone, “China tea, dry toast and butter and white cake, for one, please.” He is clothed in tweeds or flannels and usually wears an old Wykamist tie. No proctor would hesitate to recognize him as a member of the University.
Yet in this is Edward alone among all the other young men in Old Wykamist ties and the Carlton Club. Some few weeks ago he murdered his tutor, a Mr. Curtis. So very few people out of College were aware of Mr. Curtis’s existence that his sudden death was received without consternation. He was just no more seen, as undistinguished dons do disappear in large Colleges. After all it was to everyone’s interest to keep things quiet—Mr. Curtis’s sole relative, a brother with a large practice at Pangbourne, quite realized this when the Warden explained things to him. The police, I think, never heard of it; if they did it was quite soon forgotten. It was said by Poxe—though with how much truth I would not venture to

Franz Marc paintings

Franz Marc paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
Francois Boucher paintings
so incestuous. Why do you suppose you got keen on Barbara? Because she’s just like Barbara Sothill. Why is Barbara keen on Charles? Because he’s you.”
Basil considered this proposition with his newly resharpened wits.
“That beard.”
“I’ve seen you with a beard.”
“That was after I came back from the Arctic and I never played the guitar in my life,” he said.
“Does Charles play the guitar? First I’ve heard of it. He does all sorts of things—just as you did.”
“I wish you wouldn’t keep bringing me into it.”
“Have you quite forgotten what you were like? Have a look at some of my old albums.”
Like most of her generation Sonia had in youth filled large volumes with press-cuttings and photographs of herself and her friends. They lay now in a shabby heap in a corner of the room.

Caravaggio paintings

Caravaggio paintings
Claude Lorrain paintings
Claude Monet paintings
Don’t pretend to be deaf. You know perfectly well who I mean. You met him here the other evening only I don’t think you really took him in.”
“Albright,” said Basil. It was evidence of the beneficial effect of the sanatorium that he did not turn purple in the face, did not gobble. He merely asked quietly: “Have you been to bed with this man?”
“Not to bed.”
“Have you slept with him?”
“Oh, no sleep.”
“You know what I mean. Have you had sexual intercourse with him?”
“Well, perhaps; not in bed; on the floor and wide awake you might call it intercourse, I suppose.”
“Come clean, Babs. Are you a virgin?”
“It’s not a thing any girl likes having said about her, but I think I am.”
“Think?”
“Well, I suppose so. Yes, really. But we can soon change all that

Peder Severin Kroyer paintings

Peder Severin Kroyer paintings
Pieter de Hooch paintings
Pietro Perugino paintings
Not for me,” said Angela. “I came well provisioned. I’m only here to keep you company. And there’s a Mrs. Somebody next door to me who I used to know. She’s got a private cache of all the sleeping pills in the world. I’ve made great friends with her already. I shall be all right.”
On the third day of his ordeal, the worst according to habitués of the establishment, there came a telephone call from Barbara.
“Pobble, I want to go back to London. I’m bored.”
“Bored with Aunt Barbara?”
“Not with her, with here.”
“You stay where you’re put, chattel.”
“No. Please, I want to go
“Your is where I am. You can’t come here.”
“No. I want to go to London.”
“You can’t. I sent the servants away for a fortnight.”
“Most of my friends live without servants.”
“You’ve sunk into a very low world, Babs.”
“Don’t be such an ass. Sonia Trumpington hasn’t any

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
Clarence Albright never had any money. Sally can’t have brought him much.”
“There may be no connection.”
“Must be. Two fellows without money both called Albright. Stands to reason they’re the same fellow.”
Peter looked at his watch.
“Half past eleven. I don’t feel like going back to hear those speeches. We showed up. Ambrose must have been pleased.”
“He was. But he can’t expect us to listen to all that rot.”
“What did he mean about Ambrose’s ‘silence’? Never knew a fellow who talked so much.”
“All a lot of rot. Where to now?”
“Come to think of it, my mother lives upstairs. We might see if she’s at
They rose to the floor where Margot Metroland had lived ever since the destruction of Pastmaster House. The door on the corridor was not locked

Winslow Homer The Houses of Parliament painting

Winslow Homer The Houses of Parliament paintingWinslow Homer The Gulf Stream paintingWinslow Homer Children on the Beach painting
lamp, butter, soap, a pillow; for remote dreams—a passage to Tel Aviv, an aeroplane to New York, news of a sister last seen in Bucharest, a bed in a hospital.
“You see dey all want somepin different, and dis is only a half of dem.”
For twenty minutes or so Major Gordon remained, overpowered, half-suffocated. Then he said: “Well, I think we’ve seen enough. I shan’t get much further in this crowd. Before we can do anything we’ve got to get them organized. They must make out their own list. I wish we could find that Hungarian woman who talked French. She made some sense.”
Bakic inquired and reported: “She don’t live here. Her husband works on the electric light so dey got a house to demselves in de park.”
“Well, let’s get out of here and try to find her.”
They left the house and emerged into the fresh air and sunshine and the singing

Jacques-Louis David Napoleon crossing the Alps painting

Jacques-Louis David Napoleon crossing the Alps paintingJoaquin Sorolla y Bastida Children on the Beach paintingThomas Gainsborough The Morning Walk painting
There was one large drink left in the whisky bottle. He poured it out and swallowed it. Elizabeth brought in the supper and they sat down. Gradually his mind grew a little calmer. They usually ate in silence. At last he said: “Elizabeth, why did you tell the doctor I had been walking in my sleep?”
She quietly put down the plate she had been holding and looked at him curiously. “Why?” she said gently. “Because I was worried, of course. I didn’t think you knew about it.”
“But have I been?”
“Oh yes, several times—in London and here. I didn’t think it mattered at first, but the night before last I found you on the balcony, quite near that dreadful hole in the rails. I was really frightened. But it’s going to be all right now. Dr. Mackenzie has given me the name ...”
It was possible, thought John Verney; nothing was more likely. He had lived night and day for ten days thinking of that opening, of the sea and rock below, the ragged ironwork

Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia painting

Caravaggio Amor Vincit Omnia paintingRaphael Saint George and the Dragon paintingPablo Picasso The Old Guitarist painting
Only one?”
“Yes, two’s the most that’s safe.”
“Where did you get them?”
“A friend at the office—the one you called the Jew. He has them prescribed by a doctor for when he’s working too hard. I told him I wasn’t sleeping, so he gave me half a bottle.”
“Could he get me some?”
“I expect so. He can do most things like that.”
So he and Elizabeth began to drug themselves regularly and passed long, vacuous nights. But often John delayed, letting the beatific pill lie beside his glass of water, while, knowing the vigil was terminable at will, he postponed the joy of unconsciousness, heard Elizabeth’s snores, and hated her sumptuously.
One evening while the plans for the were still under discussion, John and Elizabeth went to the cinema. The film was a murder story of no great ingenuity but with showy scenery. A bride murdered her husband by throwing him out of a window, down a cliff.

Frederic Edwin Church Sunset painting

Frederic Edwin Church Sunset paintingTitian The Fall of Man paintingJohn William Godward Nu Sur La Plage painting
Elizabeth was part and parcel of it. She worked for the State and the Jews. She was a collaborator with the new, alien, occupying power. And as the winter wore on and the gas burned feebly in the stove, and the rain blew in through the patched windows, as at length spring came and buds broke in the obscene wilderness round the house, Elizabeth in his mind became something more important. She became a symbol. For just as soldiers in far-distant camps think of their wives, with a tenderness they seldom felt at Home, as the embodiment of all the good things they have left behind, wives who perhaps were scolds and drabs, but in the desert and jungle become transfigured until their trite air-letters become texts of hope, so Elizabeth grew in John Verney’s despairing mind to more than human malevolence as the archpriestess and maenad of the century of the common man.
“You aren’t looking well, John,” said his aunt. “You and Elizabeth ought to get away for a bit. She is due for leave at Easter.”
“The State is granting her a supplementary ration

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix painting

Jean Beraud La Rue de la Paix paintingHenri Rousseau The Football Players paintingPaul Cezanne Vase with Flowers painting
Aren’t you going to say ‘Good-night’ to us?” asked Charles.
“Good-night.”
A dozen voices irregularly took up the cry. “Good-night, O’Malley ... I hope the official watch doesn’t stop in the night ... happy dreams, O’Malley.”
“Really, you know,” said Wheatley, “there’s a man still saying his prayers.”
“Stop talking.”
“Please,” said Tamplin, on his knees. He remained there for half a minute more, then rose and got into bed.
“You understand, Tamplin? You’re late.”
“Oh, but I don’t think I can be, even by your watch. I was perfectly ready when you said ‘Say your dibs.’”
“If you want to take as long as that you must start sooner.”
“But I couldn’t with all that noise going on, could I, O’Malley? All that wrangling about watches?”
“We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“Good-night, O’Malley.”
At this moment the door opened and the house-captain in charge of the dormitory

Caravaggio The Crowning with Thorns painting

Caravaggio The Crowning with Thorns paintingCaravaggio Narcissus paintingCaravaggio Madonna di Loreto painting
was witty, though.”
“I hope he’s not so slack that we shan’t get our Certificates next summer.”
“One can always sweat the last term. At the University no one ever does any work until just before the exams. Then they sit up all night with black and strychnine.”
“It would be jolly witty if no one passed his Certificate.”
“I wonder what they’d do.”
“Give Peacock the push, I should think.”
Presently Grace was said and the school streamed out into the cloisters. It was now dark. The cloisters were lit at intervals by gaslamps. As one walked, one’s shadow lengthened and grew fainter before one until, approaching the next source of light, it disappeared, fell behind, followed one’s heels, shortened, deepened, disappeared and started again at one’s toes. The quarter of an hour between Hall and Second Evening was mainly spent in walking the cloisters in pairs or in threes; to walk four abreast was the privilege of school prefects. On

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with Yarnwinder painting

Leonardo da Vinci Madonna with Yarnwinder paintingLeonardo da Vinci Madonna Litta paintingLeonardo da Vinci Leda painting
Get on with your work, Ryder,” said Apthorpe.
Apthorpe has greased into being a house-captain this term, Charles wrote. This is his first Evening School. He is being thoroughly officious and on his dignity.
“Can we have the light on, please?”
“All right. Wykham-Blake, put it on.” A small boy rose from the under-school table. “Wykham-Blake, I said. There’s no need for everyone to move.”
A rattle of the chain, a hiss of gas, a brilliant white light over half the room. The other light hung over the new boys’ table.
“Put the light on, one of you, whatever your names are.”
Six startled little boys looked at Apthorpe and at one another, all began to rise together, all sat down, all looked at Apthorpe in consternation.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake.”
Apthorpe leaned over their heads and pulled

French Artist Jean Beraud

Jean Beraud (born January 12, 1849 in Saint Petersburg; died October 4, 1935 in Paris) was a French Impressionist painter and commercial artist; Click on to browse Jean Beraud Paintings .

Jean Beraud exhibited his works at the Salon for the first time in 1872. However, he did not gain recognition until 1876, with his On the Way Back from the Funeral. He exhibited with the Society of French Watercolorists at the 1889 World's Fair in Paris. Jean Beraud painted many scenes of Parisian daily life during the Belle Epoque in a style that stands somewhere between the academic art of the Salon and that of Impressionists. He received the Legion d'honneur in 1894. Jean Beraud paintings often included truth-based humour and mockery of late 19th century Parisian life, along with frequent appearances of biblical characters in then contemporary situations. Paintings such as Mary Magdalene in the House of the Pharisees aroused controversy when exhibited, because of these themes. Boulevard des capucines is very popular these years.