. Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter;. rs Contract. SO Millets life consumed itself away : work, illness, anxiety, credit-ors, and difficulty in getting paid even for the work he delivered.If he and I had not had youth, with its power of resistance, itwould have ended tragically. Twice the idea of suicide haunted themind of Millet. Suicide, he said, as if to himself, is the act of a bad man —and then — wife, children, a fine inheritance, and Millet looked atme. Then, with a sudden impulse, he cried: 4<«£ome. let us go andseethe sunset; it will make meJegLhetter. * Out in the fields,

. Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter;. rs Contract. SO Millets life consumed itself away : work, illness, anxiety, credit-ors, and difficulty in getting paid even for the work he delivered.If he and I had not had youth, with its power of resistance, itwould have ended tragically. Twice the idea of suicide haunted themind of Millet. Suicide, he said, as if to himself, is the act of a bad man —and then — wife, children, a fine inheritance, and Millet looked atme. Then, with a sudden impulse, he cried: 4<«£ome. let us go andseethe_sunset; it will_make meJegLhetter. * Out in the fields, Stock Photo
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Reading Room 2020 / Alamy Stock Photo

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1526 x 1637 px | 25.8 x 27.7 cm | 10.2 x 10.9 inches | 150dpi

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. Jean-François Millet, peasant and painter;. rs Contract. SO Millets life consumed itself away : work, illness, anxiety, credit-ors, and difficulty in getting paid even for the work he delivered.If he and I had not had youth, with its power of resistance, itwould have ended tragically. Twice the idea of suicide haunted themind of Millet. Suicide, he said, as if to himself, is the act of a bad man —and then — wife, children, a fine inheritance, and Millet looked atme. Then, with a sudden impulse, he cried: 4<«£ome. let us go andseethe_sunset; it will_make meJegLhetter. * Out in the fields, at the close of day, Millet said : See thoseobjects which move over there in the shadow, creeping or walking. * This wretched thought came to him often, and I have seen several tragic sketches ofsuicides. One is very dramatic. A painter lies dead at the foot of his easel; a woman at thedreadful sight lifts her arms, and seems to cry out. But between the thought and the act wasa whole world which Millet would never have crossed. p^r; ;x.