Volegov River of Dreams

Volegov River of DreamsVolegov Pretty in PinkVolegov Picnic amongst the PoppiesVolegov park of rose
silence, and one or two of the Tooks pricked up their ears.Indeed, for Three Purposes! First of all, to tell you that I am immensely fond of you all, and that eleventy-one years is too short a time to live among such excellent and admirable hobbits. Tremendous outburst of approval./ don’t know half of you half as well as I should like; and I like less than half of you half as well as you deserve. This was unexpected and rather difficult. There was some scattered clapping, but most of them were trying to work it out and see if it came to a Gross, if I may use the expression. No cheers. This was ridiculous. Many of his guests, and especially the Sackville-Bagginses, were insulted, feeling sure they had only been asked to fill up the required number, like goods in a package. ‘One Gross, indeed! Vulgar expression.’It is also, if I may be allowed to refer to ancient history, the anniversary of my arrival by barrel at Esgaroth on the compliment.Secondly, to celebrate my birthday. Cheers again. / should say: OUR birthday. For it is, of course, also the birthday of my heir and nephew, Frodo. He comes of age and into his inheritance today. Some perfunctory clapping by the elders; and some loud shouts of ‘Frodo! Frodo! Jolly old Frodo,’ from the juniors. The Sackville-Bagginses scowled, and wondered what was meant by ‘coming into his inheritance’. Together we score one hundred and forty-four. Your numbers were chosen to fit this remarkable total: One Long Lake; though the fact that it was my birthday slipped my memory on that occasion. I was

Shotwells AQUA VIEW

Shotwells AQUA VIEWMonet Monet's Garden at ArgentueilGauguin Young Girl DreamingGauguin Yellow Christ
And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through his eyelids, Harry saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.

　　　Still feigning death on the ground, he understood. Narcissa knew that the only way she would be permitted to enter Hogwarts,to humiliation to prove Voldemort's victory. He was lifted into the air, and it took all his determination to remain limp, yet the pain he expected did not come. He was thrown once, twice, three times into the air. His glasses flew off and he felt his wand slide a little beneath
and find her son, was as part of the conquering army. She no longer cared whether Voldemort won.

　　　"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter is dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! Watch! Crucio!"

　　　Harry had been expecting it, knew his body would not be allowed to remain unsullied upon the forest floor; it must be subjected

Felisky Bottle With A View

Felisky Bottle With A ViewFelisky Balcony With A Bay ViewFelisky Balcony View Of The VillaFelisky Balcony Overlooking Vineyards
The corridor dissolved, and the scene took a little longer to reform: Harry seemed to fly through shifting shapes and colors until his surroundings solidified again and he stood on a hilltop, forlorn and cold in the darkness, the wind whistling through the branches of a few leafless trees. The adult Snape was panting, turning on the spot, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, waiting for something or for someone… His fear infected Harry too, even though he knew that he could not be harmed, and he looked over his shoulder, wondering what it was that Snape was waiting for –
"Don't kill me!" "That was not my intention." 　　　Any sound of Dumbledore Apparating had been drowned by the sound of the wind in the branches. He stood before Snape with his robes
　　　Then a blinding, jagged jet of white light flew through the air. Harry thought of lightning, but Snape had dropped to his knees and his wand had flown out of his hand.

Gerome Carpet Merchant in Cairo

Gerome Carpet Merchant in CairoKlimt The KissKlimt Poppy FieldKlimt Maeda Primavesi
The time has come for Slytherin House to decide upon its loyalties," interrupted Professor McGonagall. "Go and wake your students, Horace."

　　　Harry did not stay to watch Slughorn splutter. He and Luna stayed after Professor McGonagall, who had taken up a position in the middle of the corridor and raised her wand.
'P-Peeves?" stammered Filch as though he had never heard the name before. 　　　"Yes, Peeves, you fool, Peeves! Haven't you been complaining about him for a quarter of a century? Go and fetch him, at once. 　　　Filch evidently thought Professor McGonagall had taken leave
"Piertotum---oh, for heaven's sake, Filch, not now---"

　　　The aged caretaker had just come hobbling into view, shouting "Students out of bed! Students in the corridors!"

　　　"They're supposed to be you blithering idiot!" shouted McGonagall. "Now go and do something constructive! Find Peeves!"

Fantin-Latour White Cup And Saucer

Fantin-Latour White Cup And SaucerMunier The Broken VaseMunier Distracting the BabyMunier Young Girl with Lamb
were ripped apart at his feet, a disinterred golden box lay open and empty beside the hole, and Voldemort's scream of fury vibrated inside his head.
discovered the loss of one of the other Horcruxes. Time was running out fast: If Voldemort chose to visit Hogwarts next, they would miss their chance. 　　　"We need to get going," he said, and their expressions told him that they understood.
　　　With an enormous effort he pulled out of Voldemort's mind again, back to where he stood, swaying, in the Room of Requirement, sweat pouring from his face and Ron holding him up.

　　　"Are you all right, Harry?" Neville was saying. "What to sit down? I expect you're tired, aren't -- ?"

　　　"No," said Harry. He looked at Ron and Hermione, trying to tell them without words that Voldemort had just

Renoir Young Spanish Woman with a Guitar

Renoir Young Spanish Woman with a GuitarRenoir Young Girl with Parasol (Aline Nunes)Renoir The Washer-WomenRenoir The Large Bathers I
Hermione looked utterly bewildered, but to Harry's enormous relief she accepted the bizarre turn of events without comment.

　　　The old goblin behind the counter clapped his hands and a younger goblin approached.
"Wait – Bogrod!" Another goblin came scurrying around the counter.
　　　"I shall need the Clankers," he told the goblin, who dashed away and returned a moment later with a leather bag that seemed to be full of jangling metal, which he handed to his senior. "Good, good! S, if you will follow me, Madam Lestrange," said the old goblin, hopping down off his stool and vanishing from sight. "I shall take you to your vault."

　　　He appeared around the end of the counter, jogging happily toward them, the contents of the leather bag still jingling. Travers was now standing quite still with his mouth hanging wide open. Ron was drawing attention to this odd phenomenon by regarding Travers with confusion.

Knight A Summer's Folly

Knight A Summer's FollyAbbema At the PianoKnight A Pensive MomentKnight A Field of Flowers
Ollivander swallowed.

"Necessary? No, I should not say that it is necessary to kill."

　　　"There are legends, though," said Harry, and as his heart rate quickened, the pain in his scar became more intense; he was sure that Voldemort has decided to put his idea into action. "Legends about a wand – or wands – that have been passed from hand to hand by murder."
　　　"I – how?" croaked Ollivander, and he looked appealingly at Ron and Hermione for help. "How do you know this?" 　　　"He wanted you to tell him how to overcome the connection between our wands," said Harry.
　　　Ollivander turned pale. Against the snowy pillow he was light gray, and his eyes were enormous, bloodshot, and bulging with what looked like fear.

"Only one wand, I think," he whispered.

"And You-Know-Who is interested in it, isn't he?" asked Harry.

Sarto Madonna della Scala

Sarto Madonna della ScalaSarto Virgin with Four SaintsSarto Stories of Joseph2Sarto Stories of Joseph
The Tale of the Three Brothers

　　　Harry turned to look at Ron and Hermione. Neither of them seemed to have understood what Xenophilius had said either.

"The Deathly Hallows?"

　　　"That's right," said Xenophilius. "You haven't heard of them? I'm not surprised. Very, very few wizards believe. Witness that knuckle-headed young at Ron, "who attacked me for sporting the symbol of a well-known Dark wizard! Such ignorance. There is nothing Dark about the Hallows – at least not in that crude sense. One simply uses the symbol to reveal oneself to other believers, in the hope that they might help one with the Quest."

He stirred several lumps of sugar into his Gurdyroot infusion and drank some.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, "I still don't really understand."

Gockel The Tree II

Gockel The Tree IIGockel The Tree IGockel The Beat Goes OnGockel Sunset Promises II
judging by the weight of the footsteps....

　　　Harry had no strength to lift his head and see his savior's identity. All he could do was raise a shaking hand to his throat and feel the place where the locket had cut tightly into his flesh. It was gone. Someone had cut him free. Then a panting voice spoke from over his head.

"Are -- you -- mental?"
　　　"Why the hell," panted Ron, holding up the Horcrux, which swung backward and forward on its shortened chain in some parody of hypnosis, "didn't you take the thing off before you dived?"
　　　Nothing but the shock of hearing that voice could have given Harry the strength to get up. Shivering violently, he staggered to his feet. There before him stood Ron, fully dressed but drenched to the skin, his hair plastered to his face, the sword of Gryffindor in one hand and the Horcrux dangling from its broken chain in the other.

O'Keeffe From the Faraway Nearby 1937

O'Keeffe From the Faraway Nearby 1937O'Keeffe Flagpole And White HouseO'Keeffe Calla Lily Turned Away 1923O'Keeffe Black Hollyhock Blue Larkspur 1930
The snow here had become impacted: It was hard and slippery where people had trodden on it all day. Villagers were Hermione.

"Is it?"

He had lost track of the date; they had not seen a newspaper for weeks.

　　　"I'm sure it is," said Hermione, her eyes upon the church. "They . . . they'll be in there, won't they? Your mum and dad? I can see the graveyard behind it."

　　　Harry felt a thrill of something that was beyond excitement, more like fear. Now that he was so near, he wondered whether he wanted to see

Titian Sacred and Profane Love [detail] painting

Titian Sacred and Profane Love [detail] paintingTitian Bacchus and Ariadne paintingLorenzo Lotto St Catherine of Alexandria painting
Hermione's Patronus vanished with a pop as she turned a horror struck face to Harry.

"Harry, if we're trapped here – !"

　　　"We won't be if we move fast," said Harry. He addressed the silent group behind them, who were all gawping at him.

"Who's got wands?"Harry knew at once that they were in trouble. The Atrium was full of people moving from fireplace to fireplace, sealing them off.

"Harry!" squeaked Hermione. "What are we going to – ?"

About half of them raised their hands.

　　　"Okay, all of you who haven't got wands need to attach yourself to somebody who has. We'll need to be fast before they stop us. Come on."

　　　They managed to cram themselves into two lifts. Harry's Patronus stood sentinel before the golden grilles as they shut and the lifts began to rise.

"Level eight," said the witch's cool voice, "Atrium."

John William Waterhouse Echo and Narcissus painting

John William Waterhouse Echo and Narcissus paintingLeonardo da Vinci Madonna with the Yarnwinder paintingRembrandt Rembrandt night watch painting
grate. A fire sprang up instantly: It gave the illusion of coziness to the stark stone walls and glistened off the long wooden table. Lupin pulled a few butterbeers from beneath his traveling cloak and they sat down.

　　　"I'd have been here three days ago but I needed to shake off the Death Eater tailing me," said Lupin. "So, you came

　　　"No," said Harry, "only after we ran into a couple of Death Eaters in a café on Tottenham Court Road."

Lupin slopped most of his butterbeer down his fron
They explained what had happened; when they had finished, Lupin looked aghast.

　　　"But how did they find you so quickly? It's impossible to track anyone who Apparates, unless you grab hold of them as they disappear."

Caravaggio The Raising of Lazarus painting

Caravaggio The Raising of Lazarus paintingThomas Kinkade Snow White discovers the cottage paintingJohannes Vermeer Woman with a Pearl Necklace painting
A moment later Bill and Charlie stood up at the front of the marquee, both wearing dress robes, with larger white roses in their buttonholes; Fred wolf-whistled and there was an outbreak of giggling from the veela
"Ooooh!" said Hermione, swiveling around in her seat to look at the entrance.　　　A great collective sigh issued from the assembled witches and wizards as Monsieur Delacour and Fleur came walking up the aisle, Fleur gliding, Monsieur Delacour bouncing and beaming. Fleur was wearing a very simple white dress and seemed to be emitting a strong, silvery glow. While her radiance usually dimmed everyone else by comparison, today it beautified everybody it fell upon. Ginny and Gabrielle, both wearing golden dresses, looked even prettier than usual and once Fleur had reached for him, Bill did not look as though he had ever met Fenrit Greyback.

John Singer Sargent Oyster Gatherers of Cancale painting

John Singer Sargent Oyster Gatherers of Cancale paintingJohn Singer Sargent Nude Egyptian Girl paintingJohn Singer Sargent Lady Agnew painting
For the first time, Harry imagined Mad-Eye's body, broken as Dumbledore's had been, yet with that one eye still whizzing in its socket. He felt a stab of revulsion mixed with a bizarre desire to laugh.

　　　"The Death Eaters probably tidied up after themselves, that's why no one's found him," said Ron wisely.

　　　"Yeah," said Harry. "Like Barty Crouch, turned into a probably transfigured Moody and stuffed him –"

　　　"Don't!" squealed Hermione. Startled, Harry looked over just in time to see her burst into tears over her copy of Spellman's Syllabary.

　　　"Oh no," said Harry, struggling to get up from the old camp bed. "Hermione, I wasn't trying to upset –"

　　　But with a great creaking of rusty bedsprings, Ron bounded off the bed and got there first. One arm around Hermione, he fished in his jeans

Franz Marc paintings

Franz Marc paintings
Fabian Perez paintings
According to scientists from the University of California, Berkeley, the percentage of cocoa listed on a label is not a dependable indicator of flavonoid content. A bar that is, for example, 65 per cent cocoa may not be better than one that is 55 per cent.
This is because a lot depends on the type of cocoa beans used and how they have been processed. The higher the temperature at which the beans are roasted and the longer they are fermented, the fewer heart-healthy flavonoids survive, and this is not mentioned on the pack. Even if flavonoid content is given, scientists claim that results can vary from lab to lab.
Francois Boucher paintings
That said, the bottom line is that you are likely to get more flavonoids in a dark chocolate that lists cocoa beans, cacao, chocolate liquor or cocoa mass on its ingredient list. Milk chocolate tends to have very few flavonoids and white chocolate none.
Some manufacturers claim to use processing techniques that preserve flavonoids, but however many flavonoids chocolate packs in, research has often been done on people eating more than 100g (500 calories worth) of chocolate a day. If you are going to eat this amount every day, then you obviously need to allow for it in your daily calorie balance because gaining weight from eating too much can put a strain on your heart. You would need to walk briskly for more than an hour and a half a day to burn off 100g of chocolate.

Francois Boucher Madame de Pompadour painting

Francois Boucher Madame de Pompadour paintingFrancois Boucher Adoration of the Shepherds paintingGustave Courbet The Origin of the World painting
could not speak, but that was, -- was it not? -- yes, it must have been -- a little nod of recognition. _He heard me_. Then all of a sudden Changez Chamchawala left his face; he was still alive, but he had gone somewhere else, had turned inwards to look at whatever there was to see. _He is teaching me how to die_, Salahuddin thought. _He does not avert his eyes, but looks death right in the face_. At no point in his dying did Changez Chamchawala speak the name of God. watch through a crack in the curtain; -- and saw the voltage being pumped into his father's body, the sudden green jaggedness of
"Please," the doctor said, "go outside the curtain now and let us make our effort." Salahuddin took the two women a few steps away; and now, when a curtain hid Changez from their sight, they wept. "He swore he would never leave me," Nasreen sobbed, her iron control broken at last, "and he has gone away." Salahuddin went to

Claude Monet Sunflowers painting

Claude Monet Sunflowers paintingJohannes Vermeer Girl with a Pearl Earring paintingJohannes Vermeer girl with the pearl earring painting
was becoming clear that the rains would fail. Lines of bony cattle migrated across the landscape, searching for a drink. _Love is Water_, someone had written in whitewash on the brick wall of a scooter factory. On the road they met other families heading south with their lives bundled up on the backs of dying donkeys, and these, too, were heading hopefully towards water. "But not bloody salt water," Mirza Saeed shouted at the Titlipur pilgrims. "And not to see it divide itself in two! They want to stay alive, but you crazies want to die." Vultures herded together by the roadside and watched the pilgrims pass.
Mirza Saeed spent the first weeks of the pilgrimage to the Arabian Sea in a state of permanent, hysterical agitation. Most of the walking was done in the mornings and late afternoons, and at these times Saeed would often leap out of his station wagon to plead with his dying wife. "Come to your senses, Mishu. You're a sick woman. Come and lie down at least, let me press your feet a while." But she refused, and her mother shooed him away. "See, Saeed

Thomas Kinkade End Of A Perfect Day II painting

Thomas Kinkade End Of A Perfect Day II paintingThomas Kinkade Conquering the Storms paintingThomas Kinkade bloomsbury cafe painting
police brutality, metamorphosed into a goat, lost your work as well as your wife, learned the power of hatred and regained human shape, what is there left to do but, as you would no doubt phrase it, demand your rights?" He waved goodbye. "Good for you," Mishal said, and they had gone. On the street corner the usual neighbourhood kids, with whom his relations had never been good, were bouncing a football off a lamp-post. One of them, an evil-looking piggy-eyed lout of nine or ten, pointed an imaginary video remote control at Chamcha and yelled: "Fast forward!" His was a generation that believed in skipping had earned him the rack, upon which he survived, was it three turns of the wheel? -- enough, at any rate, to make most men confess to raping their grandmothers, or anything else, just to make the pain go away; -- yet he had confessed to nothing

Edward Hopper Portrait of Orleans painting

Edward Hopper Portrait of Orleans paintingEdward Hopper Pont du Carrousel in the Fog paintingEdward Hopper Painter and Model painting
unto Khalid who had been a carrier of water before, and now bore greater weights: "Go thou and cleanse that place." So Khalid with a force of men descended upon the temple, for Mahound was loth to enter the city while such abominations stood at its gates.
When the guardian of the temple, who was of the tribe of Shark, saw the approach of Khalid with a great host of warriors, he took up his sword and went to the idol of the goddess. After making his final prayers he hung his sword about her neck, saying, "If thou be truly a goddess, Uzza, defend thyself and thy servant against the coming of Mahound." Then Khalid entered the temple, and when the goddess did not move the guardian said, "Now verily do I know that the God of Mahound is the true God, and this stone but a stone." Then Khalid broke the temple and the idol and returned to Mahound in his tent

William Bouguereau The Nymphaeum painting

William Bouguereau The Nymphaeum paintingWilliam Bouguereau The Madonna of the Roses paintingWilliam Bouguereau The Wave painting
comprehensible, even laudable, and rooted for her all the way, could notsee her daughter's point in the matter of Gibreel Farishta, the revenant Indian movie star. "To hear you talk, dear, the man's not in your league," she said, using a phrase she believed to be synonymous with _not your type_, and which she would have been horrified to hear described as a racial, or religious, slur: which was inevitably the sense in which her daughter understood it. "That's just fine by me," Allie riposted with spirit, and rose. "The fact is, I don't even like my league."
Her feet ached, obliging her to limp, rather than storm, from the restaurant. "Grand passion," she could hear her mother behind her back announcing loudly to the room at large. "The gift of tongues; means a girl can babble out any blasted thing."

Alphonse Maria Mucha Flower painting

Alphonse Maria Mucha Flower paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Flirt paintingAlphonse Maria Mucha Biscuits Lefevre Utile painting
the change."
"Da-ad," Anahita Sufyan, eyes lifting to heaven, cheek lying ho-hum against palm, interrupted these cogitations. "Give over. Point is, how'd he turn into such a, such a," -- admiringly -- "freak?"
Upon which, the devil himself, looking up from chicken soup, cried out, "No, I'm not. I'm not a freak, O no, certainly I am not." His voice, seeming to rise from an unfathomable abyss of touched and alarmed the younger girl, who rushed over to where he sat, and, impetuously caressing a shoulder of the unhappy beast, said, in an attempt to make amends: "Of course you aren't, I'm sorry, of course I don't think you're a freak; it's just that you look like one."
Saladin Chamcha burst into tears.
Mrs. Sufyan, meanwhile, had been horrified by the sight of her younger daughter actually laying hands on the creature, and turning to the

Henri Rousseau Fight Between a Tiger and a Buffalo painting

Henri Rousseau Fight Between a Tiger and a Buffalo paintingHenri Rousseau Family Fishing paintingHenri Rousseau Exotic Landscape painting
on, he proceeds eventually to issue in ringing tones the Imam's nightly call to his people to rise up against the evil of her State. "We will make a revolution," the Imam proclaims through him, "that is a revolt not only against a tyrant, but against history." For there is an enemy beyond Ayesha, and it is History herself. History is the blood--wine that must no longer be drunk. History the intoxicant, the creation and possession of the Devil, of the great Shaitan, the greatest of the lies -- -- against which the Imam has set his face. History is a deviation from the Path, knowledge is a delusion, because the sum of knowledge was complete on the day AlLah finished his revelation to Mahound. "We will unmake the veil of history," Bilal declaims into the listening night, "and when it is unravelled, we will see Paradise standing there, in all its glory and light." The Imam chose Bilal for this task on account of the beauty of his voice, which in its previous incarnation succeeded in climbing the Everest of the hit parade, not once but a dozen