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The poisoned will and a fog set upon the reaches were a time to war and what may come of the fairer races. Dwarven strongholds and through the southern lands of the pixie where all their magic is set an underground kingdom could this be to a single grain of sand. The great tree will grow again to a time when men were little and far between and the women left to carry the burden of this war. I do not remember when the tree was whole or when it stood so tall but here to see it cleaved at the trunk and its people like the fruit left to rot in the colder sands. I don't remember many things as I used to or the way was the color in that little girl's hair yet there she stood waiting for me to know how this all would play out. My people, this fruit, or anything left for this rotten world is man, the short ones who live in the east and make money on the backs of the proud native. Death has all that is time left to be and this covering is slow to find what we really must become.
A broken wing in song through this leaving forest blooms like exodus as upon and within the eye of a cloud. This dusting of glory as she folds those wings to all will fade of health and ever lost. All the diamonds in the deep was for something far more akin to this darkness as below the rotting wood lay two forgotten children. Their teeth and claws having dug out a hole so vast and unforgiving where both did shimmer and fold to the mirrored image of this existence. Moth winged and scattered to the former destruction of the bog whereas under flesh gave to this skin a city of incredible make. Surrene tried but she could not bring him from the pull as the bow string took row after row of the taller shields, sand then crawling up the massive frame as to an eagle in flight would mark away this bird only to pluck her son from the coming dark. A dream slow to open as only one more overlapped this fall back into the abyss.
Ever hiss did the blade twist up from the boggy marsh and the feeling did pass. Swords and great spears kissed the blue streets, thrown or dropped as the broken stuck from out the ice held path and roadways along their fallen tribesmen. A light not meant for old men gave the shadow its course to glint and then fade away. This ripple of blue fluttering thought was far better or worse than any ghost between his father's cryptic speeches and like that nothing that always listened to such order was the thought back to his sunflowers and Edmund would be his hope this day. Only her dreams held electric to the fading wind, such to foretell the fog of this simple farmer and his path as it set before them only to the roaming road of the old marsh, far from those dreadful graves of this dying land. Sorrow into the one day in a dying eye of the sparrow and Edmund would promise to never take from this again as such innocence held to experiment, he knew well what he did to this tree.
This is a human story of Good verses Evil, of Faith and Courage, of Avarice and Greed, of Love and Dedication, of Trust and Betrayal And above all "The Lust for Diamonds" And so Alex Scott is sent off once again on the trail of Democracy's deadly enemy, The Syndicate who are showing too close an interest in an illegal source of diamonds from Sierra Leone and Angola.
A graphic novel about a corn farmer named John Hardin who is suspected by the Black Diamond Detective Agency for blowing up a train and finds himself running from the law.
"The entire field of film historians awaits the AFI volumes with eagerness."--Eileen Bowser, Museum of Modern Art Film Department Comments on previous volumes: "The source of last resort for finding socially valuable . . . films that received such scant attention that they seem 'lost' until discovered in the AFI Catalog."--Thomas Cripps "Endlessly absorbing as an excursion into cultural history and national memory."--Arthur Schlesinger, Jr.
In 1850, the legendary Koh-i-noor diamond, gem of Eastern potentates, was transferred from the Punjab in India and, in an elaborate ceremony, placed into Queen Victoria’s outstretched hands. This act inaugurated what author Adrienne Munich recognizes in her engaging new book as the empire of diamonds. Diamonds were a symbol of political power—only for the very rich and influential. But, in a development that also reflected the British Empire’s prosperity, the idea of owning a diamond came to be marketed to the middle class. In all kinds of writings, diamonds began to take on an affordable romance. Considering many of the era’s most iconic voices—from Dickens and Tennyson to Kipling and Stevenson—as well as grand entertainments such as The Moonstone, King Solomon’s Mines, and the tales of Sherlock Holmes, Munich explores diamonds as fetishes that seem to contain a living spirit exerting powerful effects, and shows how they scintillated the literary and cultural imagination. Based on close textual attention and rare archival material, and drawing on ideas from material culture, fashion theory, economic criticism, and fetishism, Empire of Diamonds interprets the various meanings of diamonds, revealing a trajectory including Indian celebrity-named diamonds reserved for Asian princes, such as the Great Mogul and the Hope Diamond, their adoption by British royal and aristocratic families, and their discovery in South Africa, the mining of which devastated the area even as it opened the gem up to the middle classes. The story Munich tells eventually finds its way to America, as power and influence cross the Atlantic, bringing diamonds to a wide consumer culture.