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What is art? Art grows from joy and sorrow, but mostly from sorrow. It grows from human lives.

Edvard Munch

Death is pitch-dark, but colors are light. To be a painter, one must work with rays of light.
EDVARD MUNCH

Darkness Death Light Painting Work
Without anxiety and illness I would have been like a ship without a rudder.
EDVARD MUNCH

Anxiety Myself Ship Sick
The viewers must come to understand the sacredness of painting, so they will remove their hats as if they were in church.
EDVARD MUNCH

Painting Removal Understand View
Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have.
EDVARD MUNCH

Accomplishment Fear Myself Sick
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.
EDVARD MUNCH

Childhood Feeling Hang Head Punishment
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.
EDVARD MUNCH

Art Brain Eyes Interior Man Work
When I paint a person, his enemies always find the portrait a good likeness.
EDVARD MUNCH

Enemy Finding Goodness Painting Person Portrait
Nature is not only all that is visible to the eye. it also includes the inner pictures of the soul.
EDVARD MUNCH

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

Ideas Life Myself Start Strength
The rich man who gives, steals twice over. First he steals the money and then the hearts of men.
EDVARD MUNCH

Heart Man Rich Steal
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.
EDVARD MUNCH

Color Courage Feeling Oneself Paint Simplicity
I do not paint what I see, but what I saw.
EDVARD MUNCH

Myself Paint See
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.
EDVARD MUNCH

Friendship Loud Myself Pierce Road Scream Walk
Without fear and disease, my life would be like a boat without oars.
EDVARD MUNCH

Boat Disease Fear Life Myself
But can they great works get rid of the worm that lies gnawing at the roots of my heart? No, never.
EDVARD MUNCH

Greatness Heart Lying Root Work
My will exceeds my talents.
EDVARD MUNCH

Inspirational Talent Willing

What is art? Art grows from joy and sorrow, but mostly from sorrow. It grows from human lives.

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What is art? Art grows from joy and sorrow, but mostly from sorrow. It grows from human lives.

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Popular Authors

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