Time, That Most Abstract Of Humanity's Homes.

Otherwise, All I Remember Of The Denizens Of The Nocturama Is That Several Of Them Had Strikingly Large Eyes, And The Fixed Inquiring Gaze Found In Certain Painters And Philosophers Who Seek To Penetrate The Darkness Which Surrounds Us Purely By Means Of Looking And Thinking.

I Feel More And More As If Time Did Not Exist At All... Only Various Spaces Interlocking According To The Rules Of A Higher Form Of Stereometry[the Geometric Measurement Of Solid Bodies], Between Which The Living And The Dead Can Move Back And Forth As They Like, And The Longer I Think About It The More It Seems To Me That We Who Are Still Alive Are Unreal In The Eyes Of The Dead.

In My Photographic Work I Was Always Especially Entranced... By The Moment When The Shadows Of Reality, So To Speak, Emerge Out Of Nothing On The Exposed Paper, As Memories Do In The Middle Of The Night, Darkening Again If You Try To Cling To Them.

I Believe That The Black-and-white Photograph, Or Rather The Gray Zones In The Black-and-white Photograph, Stand For This Territory That Is Located Between Life And Death.

Human Civilization Has Been No More Than A Strange Luminescence Growing More Intense By The Hour, Of Which No One Can Say When It Will Begin To Wane And When It Will Fade Away.