“Anybody who perceives colors can become a painter. It’s simply a question of whether or not one has felt anything and whether one has the courage to recount the things one has felt.”

In my childhood I always felt that I was treated unjustly, without a mother, sick, and with the threat of punishment in Hell hanging over my head.

I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.

Oil-painting is a developed technique. Why go backwards?

I learned early about the misery and dangers of life, and about the afterlife, about the external punishment which awaited the children of sin in Hell.

For as long as I can remember I have suffered from a deep feeling of anxiety which I have tried to express in my art.

The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.

Some colors reconcile themselves to one another, others just clash.

My breakthrough came very late in life, really only starting when I was 50. I had the strength for new deeds and ideas.

I was walking along the road with two friends. The sun set. I felt a tinge of melancholy. Suddenly the sky became a bloody red. I stood there, trembling with fright. And I felt a loud, unending scream piercing nature.

All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart’s blood. Art is your heart’s blood.

The way one sees is also dependent upon one’s emotional state of mind. This is why a motif can be looked at in so many ways, and this is what makes art so interesting.

Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have.

A work of art comes only from inside a human being.

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 find it difficult to imagine an afterlife, such as Christians, or at any rate many religious people, conceive it, believing that the conversations with relatives and friends interrupted here on earth will be continued in the hereafter.

One can easily tell that the creator of the paintings in the Sistine Chapel was above all a sculptor.

Love is safety to share all our colors.

Who indeed, after pulling off the coloured glasses of prejudice and thrusting out of sight his pet projects, can help seeing the folly of these endeavours to protect men against themselves? A sad population of imbeciles would our schemers fill the world with, could their plans last.

You choose your friends by their character and your socks by their color.

If the colored people made a mistake in voting for me, they ought to correct it.

You cannot act a color. Do not tell me I’m acting black, because I’m not. I’m acting whatever you want to call it – urban. I don’t even have a name for it. I just call it ‘me.’

I know how influential I am over my fans and followers. I feel like everything I do, my hair color, my makeup, I always start these huge trends, and I don’t even realize what I’m capable of.

Against Bermane Stiverne, they said he was going to be the toughest test, but I passed that with flying colours.

All those lavenders seemed purple in love they turned lilac without him.