Edvard Munch — "The air was like a shriek."
The air was like a shriek.
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More from Edvard Munch
"I was stretched to the limit—nature was screaming in my blood… After that I gave up hope ever of being able to love again."
"All art, literature, and music must be born in the heart and soul of man."
"I am a wanderer, always searching for something I cannot find."
"A person himself believes that all the other portraits are good likenesses except the one of himself."
"I paint moments, not things."