Albert Moore A Musician

Albert Moore A MusicianMark Rothko White over RedPaul Klee Red BridgePaul Klee Red And White DomesPaul Klee Fire in the Evening
. . .he had to kiss her. Very romantic, Black Aliss was. There was always a bit of romance in her spells. She liked nothing better than Girl meets Frog.'
'Why did they call her Black Aliss?'
'Fingernails,' said Granny.
'And teeth,' past and afternoons that had lasted forever. Some minutes had lasted hours, some hours had gone past so quickly she hadn't been aware they'd gone past at all . . .
'But that's just people's perception,' she said. 'Isn't it?'
'Oh, yes,' said Granny, 'of course it is. It all is. What difference does that make?'
'A hundred years'd be over-egging it, mind,' said Nanny.said Nanny Ogg. 'She had a sweet tooth. Lived in a real gingerbread cottage. Couple of kids shoved her in her own oven at the end. Shocking.''And you're going to send the castle to sleep?' said Magrat.'She never sent the castle to sleep,' said Granny. 'That's just an old wives' tale,' she added, glaring at Nanny. 'She just stirred up time a little. It's not as hard as people think. Everyone does it all the time. It's like rubber, is time. You can stretch it to suit yourself.'Magrat was about to say, that's not right, time is time, every second lasts a second, that's what it's for, that's its job . . .And then she recalled weeks that had flown