Painting Constantly Appeared To Me As The

There Is Nothing I Hate More Than Sentimentality.

My Heart Beats More For A Raw, Average Vulgar Art, Which Doesn't Live Between Sleepy Fairy-tale Moods And Poetry But Rather Concedes A Direct Entrance To The Fearful, Commonplace, Splendid And The Average Grotesque Banality In Life.

I Believe The Reason I Love Painting So Much Is That It Forces One To Be Objective.

I Went Across The Fields To Avoid The Straight Highways, Along The Firing Lines Where People Were Shooting At A Small Wooded Hill, Which Is Now Covered With Wooden Crosses And Lines Of Graves Instead Of Spring Flowers.

Painting Is A Very Difficult Thing. It Absorbs The Whole Man, Body And Soul, Thus Have I Passed Blindly Many Things Which Belong To Real And Political Life.