famous impressionist painting

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asian famous painting
famous french painting
They were both silent for a few moments. Elinor first spoke. 　　 "Did you tell her that you should soon return?" 　　 "I do not know what I told her," he replied, impatiently; "less than was due to the past beyond a doubt, and in all likelihood much more than was justified by the future. I cannot think of it. It won't do. Then came your dear mother to torture me farther, with all her kindness and confidence. Thank Heaven! it did torture me. I was miserable. Miss Dashwood, you cannot have an idea of the comfort it gives me to look back on my own misery. I owe such a grudge to myself for the stupid, rascally folly of my own heart, that all my past sufferings under it are only triumph and exultation to me now. Well, I went, left all that I loved, and went to those to whom, at best, I was only indifferent. My journey to town- travelling with my own horses, and therefore so tediously- no creature to speak to- my own reflections so cheerful- when I looked forward every thing so inviting!- when I looked back at Barton, the picture so soothing!- oh, it was a blessed journey!" 　　 He stopped. 　　 "Well, sir," said Elinor, who, though pitying him, grew impatient for his departure, "and this is all?" 　　 "All!- no:- have you forgot what passed in town? That infamous letter? Did she show it you?"