The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left

Constantly near you, I never in m… sixty-four years knew you so well… or half so well. We talked. you we… so lucid, so disengaged from all e… of place and time. We talked of ou…

There were some dirty plates and a glass of milk beside her on a small table near the rank, disheveled bed— Wrinkled and nearly blind

Summer! the painting is organized about a young reaper enjoying his noonday rest

Oh strong—ridged and deeply hollow… nose of mine! what will you not be… What tactless asses we are, you an… always indiscriminate, always unas… and now it is the souring flowers…

Ecstatic bird songs pound the hollow vastness of the sky with metallic clinkings— beating color up into it at a far edge,—beating it, beating…

The whole process is a lie, unless, crowned by excess, It break forcefully, one way or another,

It is a small plant delicately branched and tapering conically to a point, each branch and the peak a wire for

"Sweet land" at last! out of sea— the Venusremembering wavelets rippling with laughter—

A big young bareheaded woman in an apron Her hair slicked back standing on the street One stockinged foot toeing