For As Long As I

To Die Is As If One's Eyes Had Been Put Out And One Cannot See Anything Any More. Perhaps It Is Like Being Shut In A Cellar. One Is Abandoned By All. They Have Slammed The Door And Are Gone. One Does Not See Anything And Notices Only The Damp Smell Of Putrefaction.

I Painted The Picture, And In The Colors The Rhythm Of The Music Quivers. I Painted The Colors I Saw.

It Is Better To Have A Good Painting With Ten Holes Than Ten Bad Paintings Without Any Holes.

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.

A Person Himself Believes That All The Other Portraits Are Good Likenesses Except The One Of Himself.