The figure of the gunman in the window was inextricable from the victim and his history. This sustained Oswald in his cell. It gave him what he needed to live. The more time he spent in a cell, the stronger he would get. Everybody knew who he was now.
I've always felt that my subject was living in dangerous times.
I was always younger than anyone around me. One day it began to change.
I am ashamed every day, and more ashamed the next.
Everyone who does not live in Berlin lives in Brooklyn now.
Insanity's so personal. It's hard to know who shares our secrets.