The colors live a remarkable life of their own after they have been applied to the canvas.

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.

I painted the picture, and in the colors the rhythm of the music quivers. I painted the colors I saw.

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

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

Without anxiety and illness I should have been like a ship without a rudder.