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<h3>Chapter 1</h3>The rest of his body was so streaked, and spotted, and marbled with the same shrouded hue, that, in the end, he had gained his distinctive appellation of the White Whale; a name, indeed, literally justified by his vivid aspect, when seen gliding at high noon through a dark blue sea, leaving a milky-way wake of creamy foam, all spangled with golden gleamings.<br /><a name="more"></a><br />Nor was it his unwonted magnitude, nor his remarkable hue, nor yet his deformed lower jaw, that so much invested the whale with natural terror, as that unexampled, intelligent malignity which, according to specific accounts, he had over and over again evinced in his assaults. More than all, his treacherous retreats struck more of dismay than perhaps aught else. For, when swimming before his exulting pursuers, with every apparent symptom of alarm, he had several times been known to turn round suddenly, and, bearing down upon them, either stave their boats to splinters, or drive them back in consternation to their ship.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcqz-YzLuZqnCb9Bict5Te06VUWBzhbJ0xMfKZOUaAXBGx1bvcYKsF76eN89Qff7rosBh8tFTUOPKzB2apLd1S5pRjnYaAwGBo73WRvr02ZxlHQkqT5-MbeL3rpUggN6zEdaADi5_jkc/s1600/foods_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Already several fatalities had attended his chase" border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcqz-YzLuZqnCb9Bict5Te06VUWBzhbJ0xMfKZOUaAXBGx1bvcYKsF76eN89Qff7rosBh8tFTUOPKzB2apLd1S5pRjnYaAwGBo73WRvr02ZxlHQkqT5-MbeL3rpUggN6zEdaADi5_jkc/s1600/foods_2.jpg" title="Already several fatalities had attended his chase" width="200" /></a>Already several fatalities had attended his chase. But though similar disasters, however little bruited ashore, were by no means unusual in the fishery; yet, in most instances, such seemed the White Whale's infernal aforethought of ferocity, that every dismembering or death that he caused, was not wholly regarded as having been inflicted by an unintelligent agent.<br /><br />Judge, then, to what pitches of inflamed, distracted fury the minds of his more desperate hunters were impelled, when amid the chips of chewed boats, and the sinking limbs of torn comrades, they swam out of the white curds of the whale's direful wrath into the serene, exasperating sunlight, that smiled on, as if at a birth or a bridal.<br />[next] <br /><h3>Chapter 2</h3>His three boats stove around him, and oars and men both whirling in the eddies; one captain, seizing the line-knife from his broken prow, had dashed at the whale, as an Arkansas duellist at his foe, blindly seeking with a six inch blade to reach the fathom-deep life of the whale. That captain was Ahab. And then it was, that suddenly sweeping his sickle-shaped lower jaw beneath him, Moby Dick had reaped away Ahab's leg, as a mower a blade of grass in the field. No turbaned Turk, no hired Venetian or Malay, could have smote him with more seeming malice. Small reason was there to doubt, then, that ever since that almost fatal encounter, Ahab had cherished a wild vindictiveness against the whale, all the more fell for that in his frantic morbidness he at last came to identify with him, not only all his bodily woes, but all his intellectual and spiritual exasperations. The White Whale swam before him as the monomaniac incarnation of all those malicious agencies which some deep men feel eating in them, till they are left living on with half a heart and half a lung. That intangible malignity which has been from the beginning; to whose dominion even the modern Christians ascribe one-half of the worlds; which the ancient Ophites of the east reverenced in their statue devil;—Ahab did not fall down and worship it like them; but deliriously transferring its idea to the abhorred white whale, he pitted himself, all mutilated, against it. All that most maddens and torments; all that stirs up the lees of things; all truth with malice in it; all that cracks the sinews and cakes the brain; all the subtle demonisms of life and thought; all evil, to crazy Ahab, were visibly personified, and made practically assailable in Moby Dick. He piled upon the whale's white hump the sum of all the general rage and hate felt by his whole race from Adam down; and then, as if his chest had been a mortar, he burst his hot heart's shell upon it.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUlOOO5I9QxsSVY_T5fhrztKdnRO7Z0be7_5P_8sRpAh4a2g-ECtf-zEUz6MUvjzBhKVwnE0z54CNpWonfq0zaqIEU8PxHLE4D5QedBxq9k9ZmUaclvlNQQ1t1secQAAGDMFDTUFsAmc/s1600/foods_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="It is not probable that this monomania in him took its instant rise at the precise time of his bodily dismemberment" border="0" height="125" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinUlOOO5I9QxsSVY_T5fhrztKdnRO7Z0be7_5P_8sRpAh4a2g-ECtf-zEUz6MUvjzBhKVwnE0z54CNpWonfq0zaqIEU8PxHLE4D5QedBxq9k9ZmUaclvlNQQ1t1secQAAGDMFDTUFsAmc/s1600/foods_4.jpg" title="It is not probable that this monomania in him took its instant rise at the precise time of his bodily dismemberment" width="200" /></a>It is not probable that this monomania in him took its instant rise at the precise time of his bodily dismemberment. Then, in darting at the monster, knife in hand, he had but given loose to a sudden, passionate, corporal animosity; and when he received the stroke that tore him, he probably but felt the agonizing bodily laceration, but nothing more. Yet, when by this collision forced to turn towards home, and for long months of days and weeks, Ahab and anguish lay stretched together in one hammock, rounding in mid winter that dreary, howling Patagonian Cape; then it was, that his torn body and gashed soul bled into one another; and so interfusing, made him mad. That it was only then, on the homeward voyage, after the encounter, that the final monomania seized him, seems all but certain from the fact that, at intervals during the passage, he was a raving lunatic; and, though unlimbed of a leg, yet such vital strength yet lurked in his Egyptian chest, and was moreover intensified by his delirium, that his mates were forced to lace him fast, even there, as he sailed, raving in his hammock. In a strait-jacket, he swung to the mad rockings of the gales. And, when running into more sufferable latitudes, the ship, with mild stun'sails spread, floated across the tranquil tropics, and, to all appearances, the old man's delirium seemed left behind him with the Cape Horn swells, and he came forth from his dark den into the blessed light and air; even then, when he bore that firm, collected front, however pale, and issued his calm orders once again; and his mates thanked God the direful madness was now gone; even then, Ahab, in his hidden self, raved on. Human madness is oftentimes a cunning and most feline thing. When you think it fled, it may have but become transfigured into some still subtler form. Ahab's full lunacy subsided not, but deepeningly contracted; like the unabated Hudson, when that noble Northman flows narrowly, but unfathomably through the Highland gorge. But, as in his narrow-flowing monomania, not one jot of Ahab's broad madness had been left behind; so in that broad madness, not one jot of his great natural intellect had perished. That before living agent, now became the living instrument. If such a furious trope may stand, his special lunacy stormed his general sanity, and carried it, and turned all its concentred cannon upon its own mad mark; so that far from having lost his strength, Ahab, to that one end, did now possess a thousand fold more potency than ever he had sanely brought to bear upon any one reasonable object.<br />[next] <br /><h3>Chapter 3</h3>At the period of our arrival at the Island, the heaviest storage of the Pequod had been almost completed; comprising her beef, bread, water, fuel, and iron hoops and staves. But, as before hinted, for some time there was a continual fetching and carrying on board of divers odds and ends of things, both large and small.<br /><br />Chief among those who did this fetching and carrying was Captain Bildad's sister, a lean old lady of a most determined and indefatigable spirit, but withal very kindhearted, who seemed resolved that, if SHE could help it, nothing should be found wanting in the Pequod, after once fairly getting to sea. At one time she would come on board with a jar of pickles for the steward's pantry; another time with a bunch of quills for the chief mate's desk, where he kept his log; a third time with a roll of flannel for the small of some one's rheumatic back. Never did any woman better deserve her name, which was Charity—Aunt Charity, as everybody called her. And like a sister of charity did this charitable Aunt Charity bustle about hither and thither, ready to turn her hand and heart to anything that promised to yield safety, comfort, and consolation to all on board a ship in which her beloved brother Bildad was concerned, and in which she herself owned a score or two of well-saved dollars.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjba9inbxUXoyOepvZc1-p39l30xjXLKNkCZ-cYBGmYB5hsPw5a5chegblUgS4onJ3qwb10s-K9kZvhNChkJ6NUEpLt_DYkQtjkVTNkBT0mf5NY1R_tw1Rye9VS4Po2BrnzE1lgTwi6b9s/s1600/cars_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="But it was startling to see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board" border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjba9inbxUXoyOepvZc1-p39l30xjXLKNkCZ-cYBGmYB5hsPw5a5chegblUgS4onJ3qwb10s-K9kZvhNChkJ6NUEpLt_DYkQtjkVTNkBT0mf5NY1R_tw1Rye9VS4Po2BrnzE1lgTwi6b9s/s1600/cars_4.jpg" title="But it was startling to see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board" width="320" /></a>But it was startling to see this excellent hearted Quakeress coming on board, as she did the last day, with a long oil-ladle in one hand, and a still longer whaling lance in the other. Nor was Bildad himself nor Captain Peleg at all backward. As for Bildad, he carried about with him a long list of the articles needed, and at every fresh arrival, down went his mark opposite that article upon the paper. Every once in a while Peleg came hobbling out of his whalebone den, roaring at the men down the hatchways, roaring up to the riggers at the mast-head, and then concluded by roaring back into his wigwam.<br />[next] <br /><h3>Chapter 4</h3>In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier could see, not a living thing left upon the common, and every bush and tree upon it that was not already a blackened skeleton was burning. The hussars had been on the road beyond the curvature of the ground, and he saw nothing of them. He heard the Martians rattle for a time and then become still. The giant saved Woking station and its cluster of houses until the last; then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town became a heap of fiery ruins. Then the Thing shut off the Heat-Ray, and turning its back upon the artilleryman, began to waddle away towards the smouldering pine woods that sheltered the second cylinder. As it did so a second glittering Titan built itself up out of the pit.<br /><br />The second monster followed the first, and at that the artilleryman began to crawl very cautiously across the hot heather ash towards Horsell. He managed to get alive into the ditch by the side of the road, and so escaped to Woking. There his story became ejaculatory. The place was impassable. It seems there were a few people alive there, frantic for the most part and many burned and scalded. He was turned aside by the fire, and hid among some almost scorching heaps of broken wall as one of the Martian giants returned. He saw this one pursue a man, catch him up in one of its steely tentacles, and knock his head against the trunk of a pine tree. At last, after nightfall, the artilleryman made a rush for it and got over the railway embankment.<br /><br />Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury, in the hope of getting out of danger Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the water mains near the railway arch smashed, and the water bubbling out like a spring upon the road.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNtP6W7WC1-fmjWPddw9RnwVeSquvmzRGY9tbQtO_UiVJL5X2mx-gNkHvO4I2d0cFyoVqFRQgOYz5-Aujhr0i5oGoMvhoulXLR3c_0KMGbMMaurWuon13o3VR_JsSiQCROC2A5EANjYE/s1600/people_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="That was the story I got from him, bit by bit" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKNtP6W7WC1-fmjWPddw9RnwVeSquvmzRGY9tbQtO_UiVJL5X2mx-gNkHvO4I2d0cFyoVqFRQgOYz5-Aujhr0i5oGoMvhoulXLR3c_0KMGbMMaurWuon13o3VR_JsSiQCROC2A5EANjYE/s1600/people_4.jpg" title="That was the story I got from him, bit by bit" width="320" /></a>That was the story I got from him, bit by bit. He grew calmer telling me and trying to make me see the things he had seen. He had eaten no food since midday, he told me early in his narrative, and I found some mutton and bread in the pantry and brought it into the room. We lit no lamp for fear of attracting the Martians, and ever and again our hands would touch upon bread or meat. As he talked, things about us came darkly out of the darkness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose trees outside the window grew distinct. It would seem that a number of men or animals had rushed across the lawn. I began to see his face, blackened and haggard, as no doubt mine was also.<br />[next] <br /><h3>Chapter 5</h3><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd45a87FbLG3gwOzJ2o2884C8xUm_Z-oudD6mCyHOQPunzi5S5EDW7-HcQKgOrzog4tKn1f8RH2eNBtnXTc_E5O9eZCb8mvxNeO2XSVIyi75wqiTLhisawognd9o1gBOHgH15pZKTynLU/s1600/city_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd45a87FbLG3gwOzJ2o2884C8xUm_Z-oudD6mCyHOQPunzi5S5EDW7-HcQKgOrzog4tKn1f8RH2eNBtnXTc_E5O9eZCb8mvxNeO2XSVIyi75wqiTLhisawognd9o1gBOHgH15pZKTynLU/s1600/city_5.jpg" title="It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged" width="320" /></a>When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my study, and I looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled now. Where flames had been there were now streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of shattered and gutted houses and blasted and blackened trees that the night had hidden stood out now gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn. Yet here and there some object had had the luck to escape--a white railway signal here, the end of a greenhouse there, white and fresh amid the wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare had destruction been so indiscriminate and so universal. And shining with the growing light of the east, three of the metallic giants stood about the pit, their cowls rotating as though they were surveying the desolation they had made.<br /><br />It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again puffs of vivid green vapour streamed up and out of it towards the brightening dawn--streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.<br /><br />Beyond were the pillars of fire about Chobham. They became pillars of bloodshot smoke at the first touch of day.<br /><br />As the dawn grew brighter we withdrew from the window from which we had watched the Martians, and went very quietly downstairs.<br /><br />The enormous broad tires of the chariots and the padded feet of the animals brought forth no sound from the moss-covered sea bottom; and so we moved in utter silence, like some huge phantasmagoria, except when the stillness was broken by the guttural growling of a goaded zitidar, or the squealing of fighting thoats. The green Martians converse but little, and then usually in monosyllables, low and like the faint rumbling of distant thunder. <br /><br />[img featured="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTcqz-YzLuZqnCb9Bict5Te06VUWBzhbJ0xMfKZOUaAXBGx1bvcYKsF76eN89Qff7rosBh8tFTUOPKzB2apLd1S5pRjnYaAwGBo73WRvr02ZxlHQkqT5-MbeL3rpUggN6zEdaADi5_jkc/s1600/foods_2.jpg"/]<br />[youtube featured="1" src="ELUn_L_a8aY"/]  <br />[img featured="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuonBix4_26HQYOnlYjdiWSRV28Hejek023ZydGZ9CV27bItXOdS0PvONiOI0gekFKXfcEaHBmrxQU5U8MHRWa_zfL0jI6GiAL-AtMDMNvF4niP94cHwnJnOJtNLiHPKebgPJ0q_31lYc/s1600/city_4.jpg"/]<br />[img featured="1" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6xuEid8N3MGK5B_6WltaszwOjOM6It8FYvb-jsym3bwhcSyFSkrkePDo2oo6CV1kbRUs94CWmsodTpDevEjFWny9eLGEac1-UdQjyXAiJKFZIRmSFvjjPzdwqnFBC2heOmitHobtNBmvq/s1600/Night+City+Glow+Wallpapers+6.jpg"/]

Sample Post with Pagination and Slide Featured Content

Chapter 1 The rest of his body was so streaked, and spotted, and marbled with the same shrouded hue, that, in the end, he had gained his dis...

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Night city and bridge best photography

<blockquote>It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again puffs of vivid green vapour streamed up and out of it towards the brightening dawn--streamed up, whirled, broke, and vanished.</blockquote>In a few minutes there was, so far as the soldier could see, not a living thing left upon the common, and every bush and tree upon it that was not already a blackened skeleton was burning. The hussars had been on the road beyond the curvature of the ground, and he saw nothing of them. He heard the Martians rattle for a time and then become still. The giant saved Woking station and its cluster of houses until the last; then in a moment the Heat-Ray was brought to bear, and the town became a heap of fiery ruins. Then the Thing shut off the Heat-Ray, and turning its back upon the artilleryman, began to waddle away towards the smouldering pine woods that sheltered the second cylinder. As it did so a second glittering Titan built itself up out of the pit.<br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd45a87FbLG3gwOzJ2o2884C8xUm_Z-oudD6mCyHOQPunzi5S5EDW7-HcQKgOrzog4tKn1f8RH2eNBtnXTc_E5O9eZCb8mvxNeO2XSVIyi75wqiTLhisawognd9o1gBOHgH15pZKTynLU/s320/city_5.jpg" imageanchor="1" rel="nofollow" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" title="Night city and bridge best photography"><img alt="Night city and bridge best photography" border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd45a87FbLG3gwOzJ2o2884C8xUm_Z-oudD6mCyHOQPunzi5S5EDW7-HcQKgOrzog4tKn1f8RH2eNBtnXTc_E5O9eZCb8mvxNeO2XSVIyi75wqiTLhisawognd9o1gBOHgH15pZKTynLU/s720/city_5.jpg" title="Night city and bridge best photography" width="720" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Night City</td></tr></tbody></table>The second monster followed the first, and at that the artilleryman began to crawl very cautiously across the hot heather ash towards Horsell. He managed to get alive into the ditch by the side of the road, and so escaped to Woking. There his story became ejaculatory. The place was impassable. It seems there were a few people alive there, frantic for the most part and many burned and scalded. He was turned aside by the fire, and hid among some almost scorching heaps of broken wall as one of the Martian giants returned. He saw this one pursue a man, catch him up in one of its steely tentacles, and knock his head against the trunk of a pine tree. At last, after nightfall, the artilleryman made a rush for it and got over the railway embankment.<br /><a name="more"></a><br />Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury, in the hope of getting out of danger Londonward. People were hiding in trenches and cellars, and many of the survivors had made off towards Woking village and Send. He had been consumed with thirst until he found one of the water mains near the railway arch smashed, and the water bubbling out like a spring upon the road.<br /><br />That was the story I got from him, bit by bit. He grew calmer telling me and trying to make me see the things he had seen. He had eaten no food since midday, he told me early in his narrative, and I found some mutton and bread in the pantry and brought it into the room. We lit no lamp for fear of attracting the Martians, and ever and again our hands would touch upon bread or meat. As he talked, things about us came darkly out of the darkness, and the trampled bushes and broken rose trees outside the window grew distinct. It would seem that a number of men or animals had rushed across the lawn. I began to see his face, blackened and haggard, as no doubt mine was also.<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8uPgy4L2HgnQknva3ufN_H3pXjfVlnW2w2UJ2KicazGD2boEtRb2iuUMHXxcDO4gAIUpRnmXaNmFvl_fU_WAkYv7Zs6q56qCBDy-itkCy8PRJ4GjJnbaHZTPoi80P-F8p8SUGpd4E3guV/s1600/City-Bridge-Night-Wallpaper-Photos-71239.jpg" imageanchor="1" rel="nofollow" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;" title="Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury"><img alt="Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury" border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8uPgy4L2HgnQknva3ufN_H3pXjfVlnW2w2UJ2KicazGD2boEtRb2iuUMHXxcDO4gAIUpRnmXaNmFvl_fU_WAkYv7Zs6q56qCBDy-itkCy8PRJ4GjJnbaHZTPoi80P-F8p8SUGpd4E3guV/s1600/City-Bridge-Night-Wallpaper-Photos-71239.jpg" title="Since then he had been skulking along towards Maybury" width="320" /></a></div>When we had finished eating we went softly upstairs to my study, and I looked again out of the open window. In one night the valley had become a valley of ashes. The fires had dwindled now. Where flames had been there were now streamers of smoke; but the countless ruins of shattered and gutted houses and blasted and blackened trees that the night had hidden stood out now gaunt and terrible in the pitiless light of dawn. Yet here and there some object had had the luck to escape--a white railway signal here, the end of a greenhouse there, white and fresh amid the wreckage. Never before in the history of warfare had destruction been so indiscriminate and so universal. And shining with the growing light of the east, three of the metallic giants stood about the pit, their cowls rotating as though they were surveying the desolation they had made.<br /><br />Beyond were the pillars of fire about Chobham. They became pillars of bloodshot smoke at the first touch of day.<br /><br />As the dawn grew brighter we withdrew from the window from which we had watched the Martians, and went very quietly downstairs.<br /><br />The enormous broad tires of the chariots and the padded feet of the animals brought forth no sound from the moss-covered sea bottom; and so we moved in utter silence, like some huge phantasmagoria, except when the stillness was broken by the guttural growling of a goaded zitidar, or the squealing of fighting thoats. The green Martians converse but little, and then usually in monosyllables, low and like the faint rumbling of distant thunder.<br /><br />We traversed a trackless waste of moss which, bending to the pressure of broad tire or padded foot, rose up again behind us, leaving no sign that we had passed. We might indeed have been the wraiths of the departed dead upon the dead sea of that dying planet for all the sound or sign we made in passing. It was the first march of a large body of men and animals I had ever witnessed which raised no dust and left no spoor; for there is no dust upon Mars except in the cultivated districts during the winter months, and even then the absence of high winds renders it almost unnoticeable.<br /><br />We camped that night at the foot of the hills we had been approaching for two days and which marked the southern boundary of this particular sea. Our animals had been two days without drink, nor had they had water for nearly two months, not since shortly after leaving Thark; but, as Tars Tarkas explained to me, they require but little and can live almost indefinitely upon the moss which covers Barsoom, and which, he told me, holds in its tiny stems sufficient moisture to meet the limited demands of the animals.<br /><br />After partaking of my evening meal of cheese-like food and vegetable milk I sought out Sola, whom I found working by the light of a torch upon some of Tars Tarkas' trappings.[right-post] She looked up at my approach, her face lighting with pleasure and with welcome.

Night city and bridge best photography

It seemed to me that the pit had been enlarged, and ever and again puffs of vivid green vapour streamed up and out of it towards the brighte...

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City Breaks – Ride to Amsterdam

<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3yUAEAKwyU2H2ew_4CLEmGJeJJ88YoG8VEkrTQQlXJOseqBBXDYSicr_APCWNNZOCXzpWfSieA1dpKDxuMo2fD2AM6M24-BrdoD0a1kLnwQDQk_acG53tySVde7hMie13vZVKzOhl9I/s1600/city_2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV3yUAEAKwyU2H2ew_4CLEmGJeJJ88YoG8VEkrTQQlXJOseqBBXDYSicr_APCWNNZOCXzpWfSieA1dpKDxuMo2fD2AM6M24-BrdoD0a1kLnwQDQk_acG53tySVde7hMie13vZVKzOhl9I/s1600/city_2.jpg" /></a></div>Nor, at any time, by night or day could the mariners now step upon the deck, unless Ahab was before them; either standing in his pivot-hole, or exactly pacing the planks between two undeviating limits,—the main-mast and the mizen; or else they saw him standing in the cabin-scuttle,—his living foot advanced upon the deck, as if to step; his hat slouched heavily over his eyes; so that however motionless he stood, however the days and nights were added on, that he had not swung in his hammock; yet hidden beneath that slouching hat, they could never tell unerringly whether, for all this, his eyes were really closed at times; or whether he was still intently scanning them; no matter, though he stood so in the scuttle for a whole hour on the stretch, and the unheeded night-damp gathered in beads of dew upon that stone-carved coat and hat. The clothes that the night had wet, the next day's sunshine dried upon him; and so, day after day, and night after night; he went no more beneath the planks; whatever he wanted from the cabin that thing he sent for.<br /><br />He ate in the same open air; that is, his two only meals,—breakfast and dinner: supper he never touched; nor reaped his beard; which darkly grew all gnarled, as unearthed roots of trees blown over, which still grow idly on at naked base, though perished in the upper verdure. But though his whole life was now become one watch on deck; and though the Parsee's mystic watch was without intermission as his own; yet these two never seemed to speak—one man to the other—unless at long intervals some passing unmomentous matter made it necessary. Though such a potent spell seemed secretly to join the twain; openly, and to the awe-struck crew, they seemed pole-like asunder. If by day they chanced to speak one word; by night, dumb men were both, so far as concerned the slightest verbal interchange. At times, for longest hours, without a single hail, they stood far parted in the starlight; Ahab in his scuttle, the Parsee by the mainmast; but still fixedly gazing upon each other; as if in the Parsee Ahab saw his forethrown shadow, in Ahab the Parsee his abandoned substance.<br /><br />And yet, somehow, did Ahab—in his own proper self, as daily, hourly, and every instant, commandingly revealed to his subordinates,—Ahab seemed an independent lord; the Parsee but his slave. Still again both seemed yoked together, and an unseen tyrant driving them; the lean shade siding the solid rib. For be this Parsee what he may, all rib and keel was solid Ahab.<br />At the first faintest glimmering of the dawn, his iron voice was heard from aft,—"Man the mast-heads!"—and all through the day, till after sunset and after twilight, the same voice every hour, at the striking of the helmsman's bell, was heard—"What d'ye see?—sharp! sharp!"<br />But when three or four days had slided by, after meeting the children-seeking Rachel; and no spout had yet been seen; the monomaniac old man seemed distrustful of his crew's fidelity; at least, of nearly all except the Pagan harpooneers; he seemed to doubt, even, whether Stubb and Flask might not willingly overlook the sight he sought. But if these suspicions were really his, he sagaciously refrained from verbally expressing them, however his actions might seem to hint them.

City Breaks – Ride to Amsterdam

Nor, at any time, by night or day could the mariners now step upon the deck, unless Ahab was before them; either standing in his pivot-hole,...

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