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

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

It is better to have a good painting with ten holes than ten bad paintings without any holes.

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.

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

It would be quite amusing to preach a bit to all those people who for many years now have been looking at our paintings and either laughed or shook their heads reproachfully. They do not believe that these impressions, these instant sensations, could contain even the smallest grain of sanity. If a tree is red or blue, or a face is blue or green, they are sure that is insanity.

Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye... it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.