Vincent van Gogh The Sower painting

Vincent van Gogh The Sower paintingVincent van Gogh The Night Cafe paintingVincent van Gogh Cafe Terrace at Night painting
and the first rays of morning strike Tower Clock.
I nodded shortly, almost angrily, neither knowing nor caring what closed-circuit Telerama might be. My eyes were strong with tears now, and I was obliged to clutch G. Herrold's fleece, as well as lean upon my stick for support. A long and desolating day had been this first of my Grand-Tutorhood, whose dawn seemed ages past! Stunned with liquor and fatigue, I leaned on my friend for the last time and felt to the full his responsibility for my chance encounter in George's Gorge and its fatal issue -- which was to say, at last I was appalled by the monstrous ease of my seduction, my heartless casting-off of Max, my forswearing of every bond and precept to carouse at my savior's bier and lust for the tart who had brought him to it. Late in the day, late in the day, to come to mourning, and mine for his death. Now I resented Croaker and Stoker and Anastasia