I was walking along a path with two friends - the sun was setting - suddenly the sky turned blood red - I paused, feeling exhausted, and leaned on the fence - there was blood and tongues of fire above the blue-black fjord and the city - my friends walked on, and I stood there trembling with anxiety - and I sensed an infinite scream passing through nature.

I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted ... the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.

I have no fear of photography as long as it cannot be used in heaven and in hell.

The viewers must come to understand the sacredness of painting, so they will remove their hats as if they were in church.

For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art.

At different moments you see with different eyes. You see differently in the morning than you do in the evening. In addition, how you see is also dependent on your emotional state. Because of this, a motif can be seen in many different ways, and this is what makes art interesting.

Disease, insanity, and death were the angels that attended my cradle, and since then have followed me throughout my life.