I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.

In my childhood I always felt that I was treated unjustly, without a mother, sick, and with the threat of punishment in Hell hanging over my head

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

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.

Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.

Youth must go ahead and prosper. These young painters are all very talented people, but they all paint frescoes.

I do not paint what I see, but what I saw.