Instantaneity is photography.
And even this heart of mine has something artificial. The dancers have sewn it into a bag of pink satin, pink satin slightly faded, like their dancing shoes.
Nothing in art should seem accidental, not even movement
One does not marry art. One ravishes it.
Daylight is too easy. What I want is difficult - the atmosphere of lamps and moonlight.
If I could have had my own way, I would have confined myself to black and white.