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From Munch’s own diary (no Krakatoa, mummies or asylums here)

I saw an Edvard Munch exhibit at the Museo de arte Thyssen-Bornemisza in Madrid. Before the exhibit I didn’t know much about the guy, other than ‘The Scream’ and some of his wood cut prints. Dang. He seemed constitutionally incapable of painting anything that wasn’t depressing, disturbing or both. Not a very cheery

What makes this doubly great is that ‘air quotes’ are often referred to as ‘scare quotes.’