With the one eye that is closed, one looks within, with the other eye that is open, one looks without.

They ... asked me: 'How do you make your pictures?' I was puzzled ... I said, I don't know, it's not important.

And no photographs taken with the aid of flashlight either, if only out of respect of the actual light—even when there isn't any of it.

In whatever one does there must be a relationship between the eye and the heart.

If, in making a portrait, you hope to grasp the interior silence of a willing victim, it's very difficult, but you must somehow position the camera between his shirt and his skin. Whereas with pencil drawing, it is up to the artist to have an interior silence.

The camera can be a machine gun, a warm kiss, a sketchbook. Shooting a camera is like saying, Yes, yes, yes. There is no maybe. All the maybes should go in the trash.

It is the photo that takes you. One must not take photos.