If You Are Nice, And Keep Your

Madhouses Are Houses Made On Purpose To Cause Suffering . . . I Cannot Stand Any Longer The Screams Of These Creatures.

It Is In Fact Agreed That I Am The Plague, The Cholera Of The Benevolent And Generous Men Who Are Interested In Art And That, When I Show Myself With My Plasters, Even The Emperor Of The Sahara Would Flee.

Send Me One Hundred Francs On Our Future Deals, Otherwise I Will Disappear In A Cataclysm.

There Is Always Something Missing That Torments Me.

I Took All My Wax Studies And Threw Them In The Fire That's The Way It Is When Something Unpleasant Happens To Me. I Take My Hammer And I Squash A Figure.