There cannot be creation without a lot of energy.

Yellow can express happiness, and then again, pain. There is flame red, blood red, and rose red; there is silver blue, sky blue, and thunder blue; every color harbors its own soul, delighting or disgusting or stimulating me.

Colours in vibration, peeling like silver bells and clanging like bronze bells, proclaiming happiness, passion and love, soul, blood and death.

Pictures are spiritual beings. The soul of the painter lives within them.

Sometimes it seems to me that I am capable of absolutely nothing, but that nature through me can accomplish a great deal.

Clever people master life; the wise illuminate it and create fresh difficulties.

There is silver blue, sky blue and thunder blue. Every colour holds within it a soul, which makes me happy or repels me, and which acts as a stimulus. To a person who has no art in him, colours are colours, tones tones...and that is all. All their consequences for the human spirit, which range between heaven to hell, just go unnoticed.