“The sun was setting towards evening when he left the house with an easel and went into the fields. There, leaning his easel against a haystack, he took out a revolver and shot himself in the heart. However, the hand, always obedient to the eye when holding a brush, failed this time: the bullet hit the diaphragm. Doctor Gachet, who was called to the bedside of the dying artist, immediately sent a note to his brother, and when he burst into the stuffy room and rushed to the bed, Vincent I told him guiltily: “I missed again.” The brother began to sob. “Don’t cry,” the artist said wearily. “The melancholy still remains.”