Paul Klee The Golden Fish

Paul Klee The Golden Fish
Paul Gauguin Where Do We Come From
Thomas Kinkade Graceland
the other, they could do all kinds of good...
But Lyra was shaking her head.
"No," she said in a quiet wail, "we can't, Will...”
And he suddenly see farther than they could, and there was a calm hope in her expression, too.
Will swallowed hard and said, "All right. I'll show you how to close a window. But I'll have to open one first, and make another Specter. I never knew about them, or else I'd have been more careful."making things up. It is a form of seeing."
"Not real traveling, then," said Lyra. "Just pretend..." "No," said Xaphania, "nothing like pretend. Pretending is easy. This way is hard, but much truer."
"And is it like the alethiometerit anymore."
“What work have I got to do, then?" said Will, hut went on at once, "No, on second thought, don't tell me. I shall decide what I do. If you say my work is fighting, or healing, or exploring, or whatever you might say, I'll always he thinking about it. And if I do end up doing that, I'll be resentful because it'll