An object dies when the gaze that lights on it has disappeared.

And always the animals from each trip you bring back a gaze a pose a gesture that points to the truest of humanity better than images of humanity itself

What I'm passionate about is History, and politics interest me only insofar as it is the cross-section of History in the present.

An object dies when the gaze that lights on it has disappeared.

Nothing sorts out memories from ordinary moments. It is only later that they claim remembrance, when they show their scars.

I’ve been round the world several times and now only banality still interests me.

Who said that time heals all wounds? It would be better to say that time heals everything - except wounds. With time, the hurt of separation loses its real limits. With time, the desired body will soon disappear, and if the desiring body has already ceased to exist for the other, then what remains is a wound, disembodied.