Allan R.Banks paintings

Allan R.Banks paintings
Andrea Mantegna paintings
Arthur Hughes paintings
the fallacy of modern aesthetics to me: ‘...the whole argument from Significant Form stands or falls by volume. If you allow C’ezanne to represent a third dimension on his two-dimensional canvas, then you must allow Landseer his gleam of loyalty in the spaniel’s eye’...but it was not until Sebastian, idly turning the page of Clive Bell’s Art, read: “’Does anyone feel the same kind of emotion for a butterfly or a flower that he feels for a cathedral or a picture?” Yes. I do,’ that my eyes were opened.
I knew Sebastian by sight long before I met him. That was unavoidable for, from his first week, he was the most conspicuous man of his year by reason of his beauty, which was arresting, and his eccentricities of behaviour, which seemed to know no bounds. My first sight of him was in the door of Germer’s, and, on that occasion, I was struck less by his looks than by the fact that he was carrying a large teddy-bear. ‘That,’ said the barber, as I took his chair, ‘was Lord Sebastian Flyte. A most amusing young gentleman.’
‘Apparently,’ I said coldly.

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings

Julius LeBlanc Stewart paintings
Jeffrey T.Larson paintings
Jean-Paul Laurens paintings
don’t see the reason in it. There never was dancing before in Eights Week. Commem. now is another matter being in the vacation, but not in Eights Week, as if teas and the river wasn’t enough. If you ask me, sir, it’s all on account of the war. It couldn’t have happened but for that.’ For this was 1923 and for Lunt, as for thousands of others, things could never be the same as they had been in 1914. ‘Now wine in the evening, he continued, as was his habit half in and half out of the door’ Cor one or two gentlemen to luncheon, there’s reason in. But not dancing. It all came in with the men back from the war. They were too old and they didn’t know and they wouldn’t learn. That’s the truth. And there’s some even goes dancing with the town at the Masonic - but the proctors will get them, you see . . . Well, here’s Lord Sebastian. I mustn’t stand here talking when there’s pin-cushions to get.’
Sebastian entered - dove-grey flannel, white crepe de Chine

Guan zeju paintings

Guan zeju paintings
Gustav Klimt paintings
Georgia O'Keeffe paintings
Won’t it be rather cold?”
“It will be quiet. Wrap up well. I have to talk to you seriously.”
“Good temper?”
“Never better.”
“Why not talk here?”
“Your mother may come in. What I have to say doesn’t concern her.”
“It’s about me and Charles, I bet.”
“Certainly.”
“Not a scolding?”
“Far from it. Warm fatherly sympathy.”
“It’s worth being frozen for that.”
They did not speak in the car. Basil sent it away, saying they would find their own way back. At that chilly tea time, with the leaves dry and falling, there was no difficulty in finding an empty seat. The light was soft; it was one of the days when London seems like Dublin.
“Charles said he’d talked to you. He wasn’t sure you loved him.”
“I love him.”

Fabian Perez Flamenco Dancer II painting

Fabian Perez Flamenco Dancer II paintingFabian Perez christine paintingGustav Klimt The Tree of Life painting
Major Gordon had one further transaction with Mme. Kanyi before his departure. There fell from the heavens one night a huge parcel of assorted literature—the gift of one of the more preposterous organizations which abounded in Bari. This department aimed at re-educating the Balkans by distributing Fortune, The Illustrated London News and handbooks of popular, old-agnosticism. From time to time during Major Gordon’s tour of duty bundles of this kind had arrived. He had hitherto deposited them in the empty office of the Director of Rest and Culture. On this last occasion, however, he thought of Mme. Kanyi. She had a long, lonely winter ahead of her. She might find something amusing in the pile. So he despatched it to her by one of the widows, who finding her out, left it on the step in the snow. Then within a few days the road to the coast was declared open and Major Gordon laboriously made his way to Split and so to Bari.

Bari had much besides the bones of St. Nicholas. Those who were quartered there

Winslow Homer The Red Canoe painting

Winslow Homer The Red Canoe paintingDaniel Ridgway Knight Daniel Ridgway Knight paintingHorace Vernet The lion hunter painting
and lightless hall, heard a voice from another room call “Come in,” went in, and found himself in a shabby office confronting a Neutralian in the uniform of a major of police. kitchen,” said Mme. Antonic, “and give them some jam. Then they will not be a nuisance.”
“You see,” said Dr. Antonic, as the door closed, “she is always hopeful. Now I do not hope. Do you think,” he asked, “that in Neutralia Western Culture might be born again? That this country has been preserved by Destiny from the horrors of war so that it can become a beacon of hope for the world?”
“No,” said Scott-King.
“Do you not?” asked Dr. Antonic anxiously. “Do you not? Neither do I.”
That evening Miss Bombaum
The man addressed him in English. “You are Miss Bombaum’s friend? Sit down. Do not be alarmed by my uniform. Some

Edward Hopper Soir Bleu painting

Edward Hopper Soir Bleu paintingEdward Hopper Railroad Sunset paintingEdward Hopper Corn Hill Truro Cape Cod painting
, well, of course, he’s not in my subject. I’m Roman Law,” said Whitemaid, with an accession of furtiveness that took all grandiosity from the claim. “They asked the Professor of Poetry, you know, but he couldn’t get away. Then they tried the Professor of Latin. He’s red. Then they asked for anyone to represent the University. No one else was enthusiastic so I put myself forward. I find expeditions of this kind highly diverting. You are familiar with them?”
“No.”
“I went to Upsala last vacation and ate very passable caviare twice a day for a week. Neutralia is not known for delicate living, alas, but one may count on rude plenty—and, of course, wine.”
“It’s all a racket, anyhow,” said the third Very Important Person.
This was a woman no longer very young. Her name, Scott-King and Whitemaid had learned through hearing it frequently called through the loudspeaker and seeing it chalked on blackboards, calling her to receive urgent messages at every stage of their journey, was Miss Bombaum. It was a name notorious to almost all the world except, as it happened, to Scott-King and Whitemaid. She was far from dim; once a roving, indeed

Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup painting

Leroy Neiman Ryder Cup paintingLeroy Neiman 37th Ryder Cup paintingLeroy Neiman 18th at Valhalla painting
years’ lease of a furnished house. “Bourgeois furniture,” Roger complained, rather more accurately than usual. They shut away the model ships and fire-bucket wastepaper baskets in a store cupboard and introduced a prodigious radio-gramophone; they hung their own pictures in place of the Bartolozzi prints, but the house retained its character, and Roger and Lucy, each in a different way, looked out of place there. It was here that Roger had written his ideological play.
They had been married in November. I had spent all the previous autumn abroad on a leisurely, aimless trip before settling at Fez for the winter’s work. My mail at Malta, in September, told me that Roger had taken up with a rich girl and was having difficulty with her family; at Tetuan I learned that he was married. Apparently he had been in pursuit of her all the summer, unknown to us. It was not until I reached London that I heard the full story. Basil Seal told me, rather resentfully, because for many years now he had himself

Edward Hopper Hotel Room painting

Edward Hopper Hotel Room paintingEdward Hopper Hotel Lobby paintingEdward Hopper Early Sunday Morning painting
first met him.
One evening, at his house, the talk was all about the kind of house I should buy. It was clear that my friends had very much more elaborate plans for me than I had for myself. After dinner Roger produced a copper-engraving of 1767 of A Composed Hermitage in the Chinese Taste. It was a preposterous design. “He actually built it,” Roger said, “and it’s still standing a mile or two out of Bath. We went to see it the other day. It only wants putting into repair. Just the house for you.”
Everyone seemed to agree.
I knew exactly what he meant. It was just the house one would want someone else to have. I was graduating from the exploiting to the exploited class.
But Lucy said: “I can’t think why John should want to have a house like that.”
When she said that I had a sudden sense of keen pleasure. She and I were on the same side.
Roger and Lucy had become my main interest during the months while I was waiting to settle up in St. John’s Wood. They lived in Victoria Square where they had taken three

Edmund Blair Leighton The Charity of St painting

Edmund Blair Leighton The Charity of St paintingEdmund Blair Leighton Alain Chartier paintingEdmund Blair Leighton Off painting
No, I don’t think I have.”
“Funny. Jimmie knows almost everyone. You’d like him. I must bring you together.” Having failed to establish contact, Thurston seemed now to think that responsibility for the conversation devolved on me.
“Mr. Thurston,” I said, “is there anything particular you wished to say to me? Because otherwise ...”
“I was coming to that,” said Thurston. “Isn’t there somewhere more private where we could go and talk?”
It was a reasonable suggestion. Two page boys sat on a bench beside us, the hall porter watched us curiously from behind his glass screen, two or three members passing through paused by the tape machine to take a closer look at my peculiar visitor. I was tolerably certain that he was not one of the enthusiasts for my work who occasionally beset me, but was either a beggar or a madman or both; at another time I should have sent him away, but that afternoon, with no prospect of other interest, I hesitated. “Be a good scout,” he urged.
There is at my club a nondescript little room of depressing aspect where members give interviews to the press, go through figures with their accountants, and in general

Herbert James Draper Lancelot and Guinevere painting

Herbert James Draper Lancelot and Guinevere paintingHerbert James Draper Lament for Icarus paintingGeorge Inness The Trout Brook painting
would die quiet. I could settle down again easier, and devote myself to the poor crazed people here with a better heart. Yes, I do feel that.”
There were tears in Angela’s eyes that afternoon as she drove away. “He shall have his little outing, bless him,” she said.


From that day onwards for many weeks Angela had a new purpose in She moved about the ordinary routine of her an abstracted air and an unfamiliar, reserved courtesy which greatly disconcerted Lady Moping.
“I believe the child’s in love. I only pray that it isn’t that uncouth Egbertson boy.”
She read a great deal in the library, she cross-examined any guests who had pretensions to legal or medical knowledge, she showed extreme goodwill to old Sir Roderick Lane-Foscote, their Member. The names “alienist,” “barrister” or “government official” now had for her the glamour that formerly surrounded film actors and professional wrestlers. She

Johannes Vermeer girl with the pearl earring painting

Johannes Vermeer girl with the pearl earring paintingGustav Klimt The Three Ages of Woman paintingGustav Klimt The Kiss (Le Baiser _ Il Baccio) painting
Yes, I know. I’ve been thinking of them. But they sound damned uncomfortable. I doubt if Milly would wear one even if I knew where to find it.”
“Tell you what, old boy. You ought to give her something.”
“Hell, I’m always giving her things. She either breaks them or loses them or forgets where she got them.”
“You must give her something she will always have by her, something that will last.”
“Eighty-one years?”
“Well, say, twenty-seven. Something to remind her of you.”
“I could give her a photograph—but I might change a bit in twenty-seven years.”
“No, no, that would be most unsuitable. A photograph wouldn’t do at all. I know what I’d give her. I’d give her a dog.”
“
puppy that was over distemper and looked like living a long time. She might even call it Hector.”
“Would that be a good thing, Beckthorpe?”
“Best possible, old boy.”
So next morning, before catching the boat train, Hector hurried to

Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Painting painting

Leonardo da Vinci Mona Lisa Painting paintingRembrandt Rembrandt night watch paintingRembrandt Belshazzar's Feast painting
hes not one to speak and I call her Mabel now. G how S. Bill wont speak to Bertie Robert wont speak to me Papa and Lady M. seem to have had a row there was a man with a snake in a bag also a little boy who told my fortune which was v. prosperous Mum bought a shawl.
POSTCARD
Saw this Mosque today. Robert is engaged to a new girl called something or other who is lousy.

S.S. Glory of Greece
Darling,
Well so we all came back from Egypt pretty excited and the cynical purser said what news and I said news well Im engaged to Arthur and Bertie is engaged to Miss P. and she is called Mabel now which is hardest of all to bear I said and Robert to a lousy girl and Papa has had a row with Lady M. and Bill has had a row with Bertie and Roberts lousy girl was awful to me and Arthur was sweet but the cynical purser wasnt a bit surprised on account he said people always get engaged and have quarrels on the Egyptian trip every cruise so I said I wasnt in the habit of getting engaged lightly thank you and he said I wasnt

Pino Angelica painting

Pino Angelica paintingPablo Picasso Le Moulin de la Galette paintingPablo Picasso Gertrude Stein painting
Faced with the grim prospect of an indefinitely prolonged residence in the home of her ancestors, Angela, like many a sensible English girl before her, decided that after her two unhappy affairs she was unlikely to fall in love again. There was for her no romantic parting of the ways between love and fortune. Elder sons were scarcer than ever that year and there was hot competition from America and the Dominions. The choice was between discomfort with her parents in a Stately or discomfort with a husband in a London mews.
Poor Tom Watch had been mildly attentive to Angela since her first season. He was her male counterpart in about every particular. Normally educated, he had, after taking a Third in History at the University, gone into the office of a reliable firm of chartered accountants, with whom he had worked ever since. And throughout those sunless city afternoons he looked back wistfully to his undergraduate days, when he had happily followed the normal

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may painting

John William Waterhouse Gather Ye Rosebuds while ye may paintingLeonardo da Vinci Leda and the Swan paintingLeonardo da Vinci Head of Christ painting
They have all come over to Thatch for the day; nine of them, three in Henry Quest’s Morris and the others in a huge and shabby car belonging to Richard Basingstoke. Mrs. Hay had only expected Henry Quest and Swithin, but she waves a plump hand benignly and the servants busy themselves in finding more food. It is so nice living near Oxford, and Basil’s friends always look so charming about the place even if they are rather odd in their manners sometimes. They all talk so quickly that she can never hear what they are saying and they never finish their sentences either—but it doesn’t matter, because they always talk about people she doesn’t know. Dear boys, of course they don’t mean to be rude really—they are so well bred, and it is nice to see them making themselves really at Home. Who are they talking about now?
“No, Imogen, really, he’s getting rather impossible.”
“I can’t tell you what he was like the other night.”
“The night you came down here.”

Caravaggio The Supper at Emmaus painting

Caravaggio The Supper at Emmaus paintingCaravaggio Taking of Christ paintingCaravaggio The Incredulity of Saint Thomas painting
afterwards) to get a taxi to the Honeymoon Lodge Motel, not this time to mount her in Position One as the consummate perversion, but to come to her in simple love, in hope (her voice grew awed even now at the notion; she doubted I would believe her) that he could leave a child behind him upon his death! The rest I had witnessed from my noose: how, seeing her attacked, Dr. Sear hadleaped -- spontaneously, instantly, one could only say heroically -- to her defense, and been felled by Croaker with a backhand smite. The blow had struck his bandaged tumor; though entirely blind now and basically, mercifully unconscious, he still had moments of lucidity, during which, in the night just past, she'd told him of her own astonishing recovery, begged his forgiveness for her part in their sorry past, professed her devotion to him, and announced her intention to undergo surgical curettage, against the unlikely chance that Croaker had accomplished what her husband had aspired to.
"But Kennard said I mustn't," she declared. "He says we have to begrateful to Croaker for bringing us together after all these years, and that we ought

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait painting

Frida Kahlo Self Portrait paintingFrida Kahlo Self Portrait with Monkey paintingFrida Kahlo Diego and Frida painting
He'll be allowed to pass outside Main Gate between the Powerhouse and Main Detention," he said -- addressing the p.-g.'s but observing Stoker. "If he sets foot on Great Mall again, arrest him. If he enters Tower Hall or the Light House, shoot him."
Stoker laughed as if in mocking triumph, but his effect was diminished by the tear-tracks still on his face. He thrust out his hand. "Put her there, Brother!"wife stared dangerously at My Ladyship, who lowered her head. Calmly, almost respectfully, Rexford pushed away the proffered hand, wiping his own afterwards on a white linen handkerchief. Good-he scoffed, "Brother indeed! Go back where you belong."
The professor-generals brightened. "You deny he's your brother, Mr. Chancellor? Once and for all?"
Rexford coolly reminded them that professor-generals did not address their Commander-in-Chief as if he were a miscreant recruit. Then he added with a wink: "Do Ilook like the rascal's brother?"
At that moment the Chancellor remarked our presence, Anastasia having drawn us near at my insistence. He flashed us a quick smile before returning to deal with Stoker

Rembrandt The Sacrifice of Abraham painting

Rembrandt The Sacrifice of Abraham paintingJohn Singer Sargent A Morning Walk paintingLord Frederick Leighton Leighton Mother and Child painting
guards were rowdy as ever; I saw no sign of their leader, nor any indication that they meant to thwart the mob. The monogrammed co-eds had left off clubbing me in order to lead the procession; reaching the lamp-post they wheeled about smartly, went down on one knee, and with the aid of their megaphones and practiced gestures, set the crowd to chanting, "Get the Goat! Get the Goat!" As I was lifted to the sidecar-top and prodded with my own stick, I even heard, as in the spring, a voice cry "Rape!" and the familiar consternation at the Mansion-corner. With a bitter sigh and no prompting from my captors I thrust my buckhorn into place and put my head in the noose. Why wait to see My Ladyship rogered yet again, en route to her Belfry-tryst, by a once-more-fallen Peter Greene, and hear the EAT-whistle blow, this time no doubt in earnest? An end to my tiresome history, and the University's! Once more I'd been all wrong, in what wise I was too miserable to care. What the heck anyhow!
Yet I paused a moment before committing suicide, for it was Hedwig Sear instead of Anastasia who shrieked round from the alley. Dressed in a thin infirmary-gown and clutching a rag-doll, she was pursued not by Peter Greene but by Croaker, whose cure had

Still Life with Iris

Still Life with IrisVincent van Gogh Harvest LandscapeFishing in Spring
The woman was quieted, if not satisfied. Grandfather scowled at me uncertainly. I myself attended Bray's apology with interest, for though I could not remember that it was he who'd ordered the EAT-whistle sounded and stopped the lynching, and though I was aware of his ulterior motive in freeing me, and though I had no intention of submitting to WESCAC's examination as before, his defense of my sixth Assignment-task was ingenious and straightforwardly offered. Moreover, the phrase "eating my words" suggested yet another interpretation, whether meant by him or not: what else had my day's work consisted of?
"Consider too," Bray enjoined them, "that the Scroll was torn to pieces by the CACAFILE in its efforts to file it at once in many different categories, as I believe George Giles instructed it to do last spring. But he now denies the reality of all such categories; ofall categories. According to his present teaching, the distinction between one book and

John William Godward paintings

John William Godward paintings
John William Waterhouse paintings
John Singer Sargent paintings
More than content, I went back into the entrance-hall; rather than disturb the reunion I would walk the few kilometers to the Infirmary, where I hoped to find Dr. Sear and perhaps Anastasia as well. There was a bustle on the wide central staircase: Mrs. Rexford, crisp and elegant, came down with a gaggle of scribbling ladies and a phalanx of suitcase-bearing young men. Coolly she moved in their van, a slim-legged, doe-eyed, soft-mouthed beauty, with the high-strung grace of careful breeding -- truly a Hedda among lady girls (though deficient of udder). She regarded me and my detention-suit with brief disdain while one of her female companions informed her that her husband was at the front gate, and that the press wanted to photograph them together before she left on her vacation-trip. She glanced somewhat petulantly towards a fellow in her retinue, who, though dressed like a chancellor's aide, had not gone with the others; I thought I saw him nod.
"All right," she said, daintily vexed. I considered warning her of Mr. Rexford's changed attitude -- but her cool and powdered elegance I found not approachable. I felt

Pino paintings

Pino paintings
Pablo Picasso paintings
Pierre-Auguste Cot paintings
it turns out," I agreed. "Now I think youought to be selfish, because Failure is Passage."
Ira thrust out his neck and blinked his lashless lids. "You talk like those fool Beists."
"Exactly. The question is, which is selfish: the miser or the philanthropist? Take me to the Light House, Stoker."
"Flunk you," Stoker cursed amiably. But when I thanked him for doing just that, he sneered off towards the motorcycle.
"Well, whichis it?" Ira demanded. "Not that I'd believe you."
"Let go my sleeve, please," I said. "I don't Grand-Tutor for my
"You can't Tutor at all!" he reminded me angrily. "You're not the Grand Tutor!"
We struck up a bargain then, to exchange bad advice for the wrong time of day.
"Be greedy," I counseled him. "Giveall you have to the P.P.F. and the New Tammany Lying-in! Then you'll have nothing, and pass at other people's expense. That's the flunking thing to do, you see, and Failure is Passage. When those Beist-fellows come around, don't just give them the time of day; give them all they want. Give them the shirt off your back."

Anders Zorn paintings

Anders Zorn paintings
Anne-Francois-Louis Janmot paintings
Allan R.Banks paintings twitch one ear and go on eating his hay. There it all was, Bill. On one side, the Nine Symphonies and the Twelve-Term Riot; Enos Enoch and the Bonifacists! On the other side, Brickett Ranunculus eating his mash and not even knowing there's such a thing as knowledge. I'd watch you frisking with Mary's kids, that never were going to hear whattrue andfalse is, and then I'd look at the wretchedest man on campus, that wroteThe Theory of the University and loves every student in it, but killed ten thousand with a single Brainwave! So! Well! I decided my Bill had better be a goat, for his own good, he should never have to wonder who he is!"

Max's long speech closed with such abruptness, was itself the end of so mattersome a history, I did not at first understand that he was done. But he set his mouth resolutely, closed his eyes, and stroked their brows with his thumb and index-finger. The hall was silent and still duskish -- though outside the solstice midday must have been

Gustav Klimt Danae (detail) painting

Gustav Klimt Danae (detail) paintingSalvador Dali The Persistence of Memory paintingSalvador Dali The Disintegration of the Persistence of Memory painting
irrespective of gender; flagellants were not. Although one glass of light wine was served with the evening meal in every dining-hall, drunkenness, , was punished severely, as were fights of any sort and even domestic altercations -- wifebeating, in particular, was made punishable by long detention. Tower-Hall patronage was abolished; macing, graft, division of interest, and other abuses of office became grounds for expulsion from the cole. Censorship was imposed upon all media of entertainment, communication, instruction, and artistic expression, with the aim of suppressing excess. Exotic dress, grooming, and behavior were condemned from all sides by billboards and Telerama messages, and -- what was perhaps the most controversial measure of all -- it was proposed that psychotherapy be made obligatory for extreme or intemperate personalities, to the end of schooling them in moderation. This last proposal the Chancellor ultimately vetoed as immoderate, though he himself had drafted it; but the press criticized him all the same -- in guarded terms, out of respect for the censorship. So also did the rank and file of New Tammany undergraduates, who had used to adore him; they removed his sunny

John William Godward Nu Sur La Plage painting

John William Godward Nu Sur La Plage paintingJohn William Godward Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder paintingJohn William Waterhouse Echo and Narcissus painting
with her in almost gentlemanly fashion, and finally announced that he wanted her advice: Didn't she agree that he should drop in at the Light House and publicly deny kinship with Lucky Rexford?
"I swear that's what he said, George -- and somildly!" Any moment, she declared, she had expected him to end the cruel pretense and become his normal self again. Had he but smashed even alittle porcelain, called out a few obscenities, or pinched the waitress's behind, she might have dined with some small appetite despite the novelty of the occasion. As it was, she could eat nothing, and trembled with worry that she had displeased him in some way. His question she could scarcely comprehend; not until they rose from table did she venture to say, "Whateveryou think, dear" -- and that only to terminate the suspense, for she was certain that as soon as she took the bait of his polite inquiry he'd perpetrate some characteristic outrage in the tea-room. He had been drawing out her chair as she replied, and when he took her elbows then she'd closed her eyes and waited, almost with relief, to be assaulted upon the table or otherwise indignified -- but he had gently