I do not believe in the art which is not the compulsive result of man's urge to open his heart

By painting colors and lines and forms seen in quickened mood I was seeking to make this mood vibrate as a phonograph does. This was the origin of the paintings in The Frieze of Life.

From the moment of my birth, the angels of anxiety, worry, and death stood at my side, followed me out when I played, followed me in the sun of springtime and in the glories of summer. They stood at my side in the evening when I closed my eyes, and intimidated me with death, hell, and eternal damnation.

I felt as if there were invisible threads connecting us - I felt the invisible strands of her hair still winding around me - and thus as she disappeared completely beyond the sea - I still felt it, felt the pain where my heart was bleeding - because the threads could not be severed.

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

I should have considered it wrong to have finished the Frieze before the room for its accommodation and the funds for its completion were available.

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