Camille Pissarro Still Life

Camille Pissarro Still LifeCamille Pissarro Morning Sunlight on the SnowCamille Pissarro Boulevard Montmarte
and then she thought he was dead, and she killed herself and then he woke up and so he did kill himself, and then there was, had a few rows, made up, got married and didn't kill themselves at all.
He became aware that the litany of star-crossed love had wound down.
'Oh,' he said, weakly. 'Doesn't anyone just, you know, just get along any more?'
To love is to suffer,' said Ysabell. There's got to be lots of dark passion.'
'Has there?'
'Absolutely. And anguish.' this girl —'Common sense suggested that at least a few women reached their third decade without killing themselves for love, but common sense didn't seem to get even a walk-on part in these aware that love made you feel hot and cold and cruel and weak, but he hadn't realised that it could make you stupid.' – swam the river every night, but one night there was this storm, and when he didn't arrive she —'Mort felt instinctively that some young couples met, say, at a village dance, and hit it off, and went out together for a year or two