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+---- Thread: Pretty Art needs pretty tables <3 (/showthread.php?tid=24233)
Pretty Art needs pretty tables <3 - smitty - 06-16-2016
I recieved these 2 images a bit ago, and I've tried but my table making skills aren't good enough for their beauty ;-;
Would anyone pretty please make me a table of them?
The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
No one ever sees the Angel; but he is heard by those who are meant to hear him. He often comes when they least expect him, when they are sad and disheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives. Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrument, or open their mouths to sing, without producing sounds that put all other human sounds to shame. Then people who do not know that the Angel has visited those persons say that they have genius.
Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel of Music. But Daddy Daae shook his head sadly; and then his eyes lit up, as he said:
"You will hear him one day, my child! When I am in Heaven, I will send him to you!"
— Gaston Leroux, The Phantom of the Opera
Tembovu
A little quote right here
and the fun continues yay!
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
No one ever sees the Angel; but he is heard by those who are meant to hear him. He often comes when they least expect him, when they are sad and disheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives. Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrument, or open their mouths to sing, without producing sounds that put all other human sounds to shame. Then people who do not know that the Angel has visited those persons say that they have genius.
Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel of Music. But Daddy Daae shook his head sadly; and then his eyes lit up, as he said:
"You will hear him one day, my child! When I am in Heaven, I will send him to you!"
<center><div style="width: 640px; height: 114px; background-image: url('http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/57648ea18272c'); background-repeat: no-repeat;"></div><div style="width: 640px; background-image: url('http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/57648f6468382');"><div style="width: 392px; height: 498px; background-image: url('http://images.helovia.net/index.php/view/57648fbb5de01'); background-repeat: no-repeat; float: left;"></div><div style="padding-top: 60px; padding-left: 50px; padding-right: 50px; font-family: times; font-size: 11px; color: #3d1100; text-align: justify; line-height: 115%; letter-spacing: 1px;">
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah. Words! Pretty words, posty posty posty. Text here. Text here. Woo hoo. La da da da blah blah blah.
The Opera ghost really existed. He was not, as was long believed, a creature of the imagination of the artists, the superstition of the managers, or a product of the absurd and impressionable brains of the young ladies of the ballet, their mothers, the box-keepers, the cloak-room attendants or the concierge. Yes, he existed in flesh and blood, although he assumed the complete appearance of a real phantom; that is to say, of a spectral shade.
No one ever sees the Angel; but he is heard by those who are meant to hear him. He often comes when they least expect him, when they are sad and disheartened. Then their ears suddenly perceive celestial harmonies, a divine voice, which they remember all their lives. Persons who are visited by the Angel quiver with a thrill unknown to the rest of mankind. And they can not touch an instrument, or open their mouths to sing, without producing sounds that put all other human sounds to shame. Then people who do not know that the Angel has visited those persons say that they have genius.
Little Christine asked her father if he had heard the Angel of Music. But Daddy Daae shook his head sadly; and then his eyes lit up, as he said:
"You will hear him one day, my child! When I am in Heaven, I will send him to you!"