I Seemed Like A Baby Bird Keeping

The Images Which The [press] Photographer Has Filtered From Reality, Whether Particular Events Or The Anguish Of Human Reactions To Them, Already Bear A Stamp Of Authenticity Which The Photographer Is Powerless To Alter By One Jot Or Tittle; The Meaning Of The Objects, By A Process Of Purification, Itself Becomes The Theme Of The Work.

An Ugliness Unfurled In The Moonlight And Soft Shadow And Suffused The Whole World. If I Were An Amoeba, He Thought, With An Infinitesimal Body, I Could Defeat Ugliness. A Man Isn’t Tiny Or Giant Enough To Defeat Anything.

Beauty Is Something That Burns The Hand When You Touch It.

The Period Of Childhood Is A Stage On Which Time And Space Become Entangled.

At No Time Are We Ever In Such Complete Possession Of A Journey, Down To Its Last Nook And Cranny, As When We Are Busy With Preparations For It. After That, There Remains Only The Journey Itself, Which Is Nothing But The Process Through Which We Lose Our Ownership Of It.