All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart’s blood. Art is your heart’s blood.
EDVARD MUNCHIn common with Michelangelo and Rembrandt I am more interested in the line, its rise and fall, than in color.
More Edvard Munch Quotes
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Painting picture by picture, I followed the impressions my eye took in at heightened moments. I painted only memories, adding nothing, no details that I did not see. Hence the simplicity of the paintings, their emptiness.
EDVARD MUNCH -
It is better to have a good painting with ten holes than ten bad paintings without any holes.
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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.
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Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
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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.
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Art comes from joy and pain, But mostly from pain.
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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.
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Some colors reconcile themselves to one another, others just clash.
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The camera will never compete with the brush and the palette, until such time as photographs can be taken in Heaven or Hell.
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But can they great works get rid of the worm that lies gnawing at the roots of my heart? No, never.
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By painting colors and lines and forms seen in quickened mood I was seeking to make this mood vibrate as a phonograph does. This was the origin of the paintings in The Frieze of Life.
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I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.
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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.
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Disease, insanity, and death were the angels that attended my cradle, and since then have followed me throughout my life.
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And I would often wake up at night and stare widely into the room: Am I in Hell?
EDVARD MUNCH