I dream of painting and then I paint my dream.

One must work and dare if one really wants to live.

Love always brings difficulties, that is true, but the good side of it is that it gives energy.

Often whole days pass without my speaking to anyone.

One can speak poetry just by arranging colors well, just as one can say comforting things in music.

Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.

What a simple thing death is, just as simple as the falling of an autumn leaf.