The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.

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.

Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have

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

All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart's blood. Art is your heart's blood.

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.

If what you want to paint is the emotive mood in all its strength... then you must not sit and stare at everything and depict it exactly as one sees it.