Death is pitch-dark, but colors are light. To be a painter, one must work with rays of light.
EDVARD MUNCHDeath is pitch-dark, but colors are light. To be a painter, one must work with rays of light.
EDVARD MUNCHWithout fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have.
EDVARD MUNCHFrom my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.
EDVARD MUNCHThrough my art I have tried to explain my life and its meaning. I have also intended to help others to clarify their lives.
EDVARD MUNCHWhen 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.
EDVARD MUNCHIn 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.
EDVARD MUNCHAny number of holier-than-thou honorable realists walk around in the belief that they have accomplished something, simply because they tell you for the hundredth time that a field is green and a red-painted house is painted red.
EDVARD MUNCHAll art, literature, and music must be born in your heart’s blood. Art is your heart’s blood.
EDVARD MUNCHIt was always my intention that The Frieze should be housed in a room which would provide a suitable architectural frame for it.
EDVARD MUNCHBut can they great works get rid of the worm that lies gnawing at the roots of my heart? No, never.
EDVARD MUNCHIf 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.
EDVARD MUNCHIn common with Michelangelo and Rembrandt I am more interested in the line, its rise and fall, than in color.
EDVARD MUNCHAnd I would often wake up at night and stare widely into the room: Am I in Hell?
EDVARD MUNCHDisease, insanity, and death were the angels that attended my cradle, and since then have followed me throughout my life.
EDVARD MUNCHI don’t believe in an art that is not born out of man’s need to open his heart.
EDVARD MUNCHI 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.
EDVARD MUNCH