George Bellows Anne in White

George Bellows Anne in WhiteCaravaggio The Crowning with ThornsCaravaggio St. John the BaptistCaravaggio Martha and Mary Magdalene
The rock swooped across the high plains, whipping snow from the drifts a mere few feet below. Belafon scuttled about urgently, smearing a little mistletoe ointment here, chalking a rune there, while Rincewind cowered in terror and exhaustion and Twoflower worried about his Luggage.
'Up ahead!' screamed the druid above the noise of the slipstream. 'Behold skies!'
Rincewind peered between his fingers. On the distant skyline was an immense construction of grey and black slabs, arranged in concentric circles and mystic avenues, aunt and forbidding against the snow. Surely men couldn't Belafon turned around, only slightly mollified. He raised his arms wide and shouted a series of untranslatable words, ending with 'nice!' in a hurt whisper.
The rock slowed, drifted sideways in a billow of snow, and hovered over the circlehave moved those nascent mountains – surely a troop of giants had been turned to stone by some . . .'It looks like a lot of rocks,' said Twoflower.Belafon hesitated in mid-gesture.'What?' he said.'It's very nice,' added the tourist hurriedly. He sought for a word. 'Ethnic,' he decided.The druid stiffened. 'Nice?' he said. 'A triumph of the silicon chunk, a miracle of modern masonic technology – nice?''Oh, yes,' said Twoflower, to whom sarcasm was merely a seven letter word beginning with S.'What does ethnic mean?' said the druid.'It means terribly impressive,' said Rincewind hurriedly, 'and we seem to be in danger of landing, if you don't mind—'