Growing Older Is Mainly An Ordeal Of

Nothing Is Mysterious, No Human Relation. Except Love.

The Fear Of Aids Imposes On An Act Whose Ideal Is An Experience Of Pure Presentness (and A Creation Of The Future) A Relation To The Past To Be Ignored At One's Peril. Sex No Longer Withdraws Its Partners, If Only For A Moment, From The Social. It Cannot Be Considered Just A Coupling; It Is A Chain, A Chain Of Transmission, From The Past.

I Have To Come Out Of The Closet Of The Third Person And Speak In A More Direct Way.

Photography Is A Kind Of Overstatement, A Heroic Copulation With The Material World.

False Values Begin With The Worship Of Things.