There is a battle that goes on between men and women. Many people call it love.

Oil-painting is a developed technique. Why go backwards?

I learned early about the misery and dangers of life, and about the afterlife, about the external punishment which awaited the children of sin in Hell.

To die is as if one's eyes had been put out and one cannot see anything any more. Perhaps it is like being shut in a cellar. One is abandoned by all. They have slammed the door and are gone. One does not see anything and notices only the damp smell of putrefaction.

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

Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.

What is art? Art grows from joy and sorrow, but mostly from sorrow. It grows from human lives.