“Infirm of purpose! Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead are but as pictures: ‘tis the eye of childhood that fears a painted devil”

“Where are the eyes of my childhood, those fearful eyes she had thirty years ago, the eyes that made me?”

“Humans tend to cling on to a picture that was painted in front of their eyes, instead of opening up their mind to the painting that was already there...”

“I painted the lines and colours that affected my inner eye. I painted from memory without adding anything, without the details that I no longer saw in front of me. This is the reason for the simplicity of the painting, their obvious emptiness. I painted the impressions of my childhood, the dull colours of a forgotten day.”

“I was angry with you. (Callie)For what? (Sin)Sleeping on the floor again. What is it with you and the floor? Most women have to fear their husbands are in the bed of another. Me, ’tis the hearth I envy. (Callie)”

“A painter paints pictures on canvas. But musicians paint their pictures on silence.”