Gerhard Richter

Springing upward, I struck him full in the face as he turned at my warning cry and then as he drew his short-sword I drew mine.

Info

Dejah Thoris had raised herself upon one elbow and was watching the battle

Whale was seized and sold, and his Grace the Duke of Wel­ling­ton received the money. Think­ing that viewed in some par­tic­u­lar lights, the case might by a bare pos­sib­il­ity in some small degree be deemed, under the cir­cum­stances, a rather hard one, an hon­est cler­gy­man of the town addressed a note to his Grace, beg­ging him to take the case of those unfor­tu­nate mar­iners into full con­sid­er­a­tion. He could not use his short-sword to advant­age because I was too close to him, nor could he draw his pis­tol, which he attemp­ted to do in dir­ect oppos­i­tion to Mar­tian cus­tom which says that you may not fight a fel­low war­ri­or in private com­bat with any oth­er than the weapon with which you are attacked.

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Cli­ent: NY Times
Web­site: nytimes.com
Date: 2016-04-06
Ser­vices: Design, Art Dir­ec­tion, Web­site

Brief

Springing upward, I struck him full in the face as he turned at my warning cry and then as he drew his short-sword I drew mine.

Whale was seized and sold, and his Grace the Duke of Wel­ling­ton received themoney. Think­ing that viewed in some par­tic­u­lar lights, the case might by a bare pos­sib­il­ity in some small degree be deemed, under the cir­cum­stances, a rather hard one, an hon­est cler­gy­man of the town addressed a note. He could not use his short-sword to advant­age because I was too close to him, nor could he draw his pis­tol, which he attemp­ted to do in dir­ect oppos­i­tion to Mar­tian cus­tom which says that you may not fight a fel­low war­ri­or in private com­bat with any oth­er than the weapon with which you are attacked.

He could not use his short-sword to advant­age because I was too close to him, nor could he draw his pis­tol, which he attemp­ted to do in dir­ect oppos­i­tion to Mar­tian cus­tom which says that you may not fight a fel­low war­ri­or in private com­bat with any oth­er than the weapon with which you are attacked. In fact he could do noth­ing but make a wild and futile attempt to dis­lodge me. With all his immense bulk he was little if any stronger than I, and it was but the mat­ter of a moment or two before he sank, bleed­ing and life­less, to the floor. Dejah Thor­is had raised her­self upon one elbow and was watch­ing the battle.

Design

These ancient Martians had been a highly cultivated and literary race, but during the vicissitudes of those trying centuries of readjustment to new conditions

But when the Wood­man entered the great Throne Room he saw neither the Head nor the Lady, for Oz had taken the shape of a most ter­rible Beast. It was nearly as big as an ele­phant, and the green throne seemed hardly strong enough to hold its weight. The Beast had a head like that of a rhino­cer­os, only there were five eyes in its face. There were five long arms grow­ing out of its body, and it also had five long, slim legs. Thick, woolly hair covered every part of it, and a more dread­ful-look­ing mon­ster could not be ima­gined. It was for­tu­nate the Tin Wood­man had no heart at that moment, for it would have beat loud and fast from ter­ror. But being only tin, the Wood­man was not at all afraid, although he was much dis­ap­poin­ted.