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| Juan Sánchez Cotán Bodegón of Vegetables before 1627 oil on canvas Museo de Bellas Artes de Granada |
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| Jacques Linard Still Life with Fruit ca. 1630 oil on panel Musée Saint-Loup, Troyes |
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| Tomás Yepes Still Life with Bowl of Fruit ca. 1645 oil on canvas Museo de Bellas Artes de Valencia |
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| Henri-Horace Roland de la Porte Still Life ca. 1765 oil on canvas Norton Simon Museum, Pasadena, California |
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| Helene Schjerfbeck Still Life with Onions 1885 oil on canvas Moderna Museet, Stockholm |
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| Meyer Isaac de Haan Still Life with Apples ca. 1890 oil on canvas Indianapolis Museum of Art |
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| Anonymous German Manufacturer Trellis with Grapes ca. 1900 printed, embossed and die-cut wallpaper border Cooper Hewitt, Smithsonian Design Museum |
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| Samuel John Peploe Still LIfe - Apples and Jar ca. 1912-16 oil on canvas Art Gallery of New South Wales, Sydney |
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| Edward Weston Cabbage Leaf 1931 gelatin silver print National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Martin Sharp Apple ca. 1972 lithograph National Gallery of Australia, Canberra |
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| Olivia Parker Bosc 1977 gelatin silver print Chrysler Museum of Art, Norfolk, Virginia |
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| Lee Guilliatt Beets 1978 watercolor on paper New Britain Museum of American Art, Connecticut |
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| Ron Geibert Vegetables, Seward County Fair, Seward, Nebraska 1980 gelatin silver print Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| Joel-Peter Witkin Angel of the Carrots 1981 gelatin silver print Art Institute of Chicago |
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| William Scharf Vegetable Sphinx 1982 acrylic on paper Smithsonian American Art Museum, Washington DC |
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| James Casebere Golden Apple 1986 gelatin silver print Whitney Museum of American Art, New York |
16 September 1943
I seem to have spent a great deal of my childhood in prison – other people's prisons. The Black Tulip prison, the French Revolution prisons, the Spanish Inquisition prisons. And the horror of those prisons was so real to me that I often look back and vaguely remember the straw, the filthy food, the oozing walls and the toads on the floor, as if I were really once in that situation. Whenever I hear about prisons I seem to imagine that I have experienced confinement myself.
3 August 1945
Later when we climbed to the top of the common and saw below us all the roof tops, the faked copper-green domes of the Opera House cinema, and, nearer, the huge frog-shaped rocks squatting in the hay-like grass, and the little human bodies sprawled out in the sun, or sitting guardedly on the benches, I had a love for Tunbridge Wells and I wished that the Pantiles and the charming things remaining could be cared for and not ignored, degraded and destroyed.
But it is a truth that goes much deeper than we know, that men feel it indecent in some way to lavish care on things that never can be replaced. If a precious thing should get broken, there will be many people who in secret will sigh with relief.
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