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Your Face Encompasses The Beauty Of The Whole Earth. Your Lips, As Red As Ripening Fruit, Gently Part As If In Pain. It Is The Smile Of A Corpse. Now The Hand Of Death Touches Life. The Chain Is Forged That Links The Thousand Families That Are Dead To The Thousand Generations To Come.

-Edvard Munch

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Your Face Encompasses The

Edvard Munch

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Your Face Encompasses The Beauty Of The Whole Earth. Your Lips, As Red As Ripening Fruit, Gently Part As If In Pain. It Is The Smile Of A Corpse. Now The Hand Of Death Touches Life. The Chain Is Forged That Links The Thousand Families That Are Dead To The Thousand Generations To Come.

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My Art Is Rooted In A Single Reflection: Why Am I Not As Others Are? ... My Art Gives Meaning To My Life.

My Whole Life Has Been Spent Walking By The Side Of A Bottomless Chasm, Jumping From Stone To Stone. Sometimes I Try To Leave My Narrow Path And Join The Swirling Mainstream Of Life, But I Always Find Myself Drawn Inexorably Back Towards The Chasm's Edge, And There I Shall Walk Until The Day I Finally Fall Into The Abyss.

If What You Want To Paint Is The Emotive Mood In All Its Strength... Then You Must Not Sit And Stare At Everything And Depict It Exactly As One Sees It.

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.

To Die Is As If One's Eyes Had Been Put Out And One Cannot See Anything Any More. Perhaps It Is Like Being Shut In A Cellar. One Is Abandoned By All. They Have Slammed The Door And Are Gone. One Does Not See Anything And Notices Only The Damp Smell Of Putrefaction.

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

I Build A Kind Of Wall Between Myself And T He Model So That I Can Paint In Peace Behind It. Otherwise, She Might Say Something That Confuses And Distracts Me.

I Was Walking Along A Path With Two Friends - The Sun Was Setting - Suddenly The Sky Turned Blood Red - I Paused, Feeling Exhausted, And Leaned On The Fence - There Was Blood And Tongues Of Fire Above The Blue-black Fjord And The City - My Friends Walked On, And I Stood There Trembling With Anxiety - And I Sensed An Infinite Scream Passing Through Nature.

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I Painted The Picture, And In The Colors The Rhythm Of The Music Quivers. I Painted The Colors I Saw.

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A Work Of Art Can Only Come From The Interior Of Man. Art Is The Form Of The Image Formed Upon The Nerves, Heart, Brain And Eye Of Man.

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I Don’t Believe In An Art That Is Not Born Out Of Man’s Need To Open His Heart.

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It Was Always My Intention That The Frieze Should Be Housed In A Room Which Would Provide A Suitable Architectural Frame For It.

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Youth Must Go Ahead And Prosper. These Young Painters Are All Very Talented People, But They All Paint Frescoes.

From My Rotting Body, Flowers Shall Grow And I Am In Them And That Is Eternity.

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Oil-painting Is A Developed Technique. Why Go Backwards?

I Have Been Given A Unique Role To Play On This Earth: Given To Me By A Life Filled With Sickness, Ill-starred Circumstances And My Profession As An Artist. It Is A Life That Contains Nothing That Resembles Happiness, And Moreover Does Not Even Desire Happiness.

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