Yellow can express happiness, and then again, pain. There is flame red, blood red, and rose red; there … - Emil Nolde

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When I was young, I used to be so jealous of other girls that it crippled me.

Emil Nolde

Yellow can express happiness, and then again, pain. There is flame red, blood red, and rose red; there is silver blue, sky blue, and thunder blue; every color harbors its own soul, delighting or disgusting or stimulating me.

Blue, Color, Flames, Pain, Silver

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The artist need not know very much, best of all let him work instinctively and paint as naturally as he breathes or walks.

Art, Breathe, Breathes, Naturally, Needs, Paint

Clever people master life; the wise illuminate it and create fresh difficulties.

Love, Life, Wise, Illuminate

There is silver blue, sky blue and thunder blue. Every colour holds within it a soul, which makes me happy or repels me, and which acts as a stimulus. To a person who has no art in him, colours are colours, tones tones. . . and that is all. All their consequences for the human spirit, which range between heaven to hell, just go unnoticed.

Art, Blue, Sky, Human, Spirit, Holds

Art is exalted above religion and race. Not a single solitary soul these days believes in the religions of the Assyrians, the Egyptians and the Greeks. . . Only their art, whenever it was beautiful, stands proud and exalted, rising above all time.

Art, Beautiful, Believe, Believes, Exalted, Greeks

Pictures are spiritual beings. The soul of the painter lives within them.

Spiritual, Soul, Painter, Lives, Beings

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Girlhood. . . is the intellectual phase of a woman's life, that time when, unencumbered by societal expectations or hormonal rages, one may pursue any curiosity from the mysteries of the yo-yo to the meaning of infinity. These two particular pursuits were where I left off in the fifth grade when I discovered a hair growing in the wrong place and all hell broke loose.

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It’s tempting to wish for the perfect boss, the perfect parent, or the perfect outfit. But maybe the best any of us can do is not to quit, play the hand we’ve been dealt, and accessorize what we’ve got.

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The climax of terror is reached when the police state begins to devour its own children, when yesterday's executioner becomes today's victim.

Children, Police, Terror, Victim, Yesterday

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This relationship is going to be built on trust.

Built, Relationship, Trust

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