Some Colors Reconcile Themselves To One Another,

I Was Walking Along A Road One Evening – On One Side Lay The City, And Below Me Was The Fjord. The Sun Went Down – The Clouds Were Stained Red, As If With Blood. I Felt As Though The Whole Of Nature Was Screaming – It Seemed As Though I Could Hear A Scream. I Painted That Picture, Painting The Clouds Like Real Blood. The Colours Screamed.

It Is Better To Have A Good Painting With Ten Holes Than Ten Bad Paintings Without Any Holes.

In Common With Michelangelo And Rembrandt I Am More Interested In The Line, Its Rise And Fall, Than In Color

When I Paint, I Never Think Of Selling. People Simply Fail To Understand That We Paint In Order To Experiment And To Develop Ourselves As We Strive For Greater Heights.

Without Anxiety And Illness I Would Have Been Like A Ship Without A Rudder.