black
grey
blue
red
brown
white

Without fear and disease, my life would be like a boat without oars.

Edvard Munch

And I would often wake up at night and stare widely into the room: Am I in Hell?
EDVARD MUNCH

Hell Myself Room Stare Wake Up
My will exceeds my talents.
EDVARD MUNCH

Inspirational Talent Willing
I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.
EDVARD MUNCH

Color Myself Painting Photograph
The camera will never compete with the brush and the palette, until such time as photographs can be taken in Heaven or Hell.
EDVARD MUNCH

Art Camera Complete Heaven Hell Photograph Tools
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
All art, literature, and music must be born in your heart’s blood. Art is your heart’s blood.
EDVARD MUNCH

Art Blood Heart Literature Yourself
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
This kind of painting with its large frames is a bourgeois drawing-room art. It is an art dealer’s art-and that came in after the civil wars following the French Revolution.
EDVARD MUNCH

Drawing Frame Kind Painting Revolution
A person himself believes that all the other portraits are good likenesses except the one of himself.
EDVARD MUNCH

Believe Goodness Himself Oneself Person
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
I have no fear of photography as long as it cannot be used in heaven and in hell.
EDVARD MUNCH

Fear Heaven Hell Photography
Without fear and illness, I could never have accomplished all I have.
EDVARD MUNCH

Accomplishment Fear Myself Sick
The notes I have made are not a diary in the ordinary sense, but partly lengthy records of my spiritual experiences, and partly poems in prose.
EDVARD MUNCH

Experience Myself Note Ordinary Poem
I sense a scream passing through nature. I painted the clouds as actual blood. The colour shrieked.
EDVARD MUNCH

Cloud Myself Nature Scream
The Academies of Art are nothing but great painting factories – those with talent are fed in at one end, and they come out as mechanical painting machines.
EDVARD MUNCH

Academics Art Factory Greatness Painting Talent
Colors live a remarkable life of their own after they have been applied to the canvas.
EDVARD MUNCH

Canvas Color Live

Without fear and disease, my life would be like a boat without oars.

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Without fear and disease, my life would be like a boat without oars.

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