The pictures of my family were designed to be on a family wall, they were supposed to be together. It was supposed to copy my mother's wall in her house.

The camera makes you forget you're there. It's not like you are hiding but you forget, you are just looking so much.

A lot can be told from what happens in between the main moments.

The first thing I did with my very first camera was climb Mt. Fuji. Climbing Mt. Fuji is a lesson in determination and moderation. It would be fair to ask if I took the moderation part to heart. But it certainly was a lesson in respecting your camera. If I was going to live with this thing, I was going to have to think about what that meant. There were not going to be any pictures without it.

A photograph is just a little, teeny-weeny, small piece of life. I feel like I see so much more than what I can actually get.

There must be a reason why photographers are not very good at verbal communication. I think we get lazy.

You don't have to sort of enhance reality. There is nothing stranger than truth.