leonardo da vinci mona lisa

leonardo da vinci mona lisa
leonardo da vinci painting
leonardo da vinci the last supper
mona lisa painting
The answers to this question were various and contradictory. Sometimes the broken reply was, "Wait! It would kill me if I saw her too soon." Sometimes, it was given in a tender rain of tears, and then it was, "Take me to her." Sometimes it was staring and bewildered, and then it was, "I don't know her. I don't understand." ¡¡¡¡After such imaginary discourse, the passenger in his fancy would dig, and dig, dig- now with a spade, now with a great key,
oil painting
now with his hands- to dig this wretched creature out. Got out at last, with earth hanging about his face and hair, he would suddenly fall away to dust. The passenger would then start to himself, and lower the window, to get the reality of mist and rain on his cheek. ¡¡¡¡Yet even when his eyes were opened on the mist and rain, on the moving patch of light from the lamps, and the hedge at the roadside retreating by jerks, the night