If you want to know how much darkness there is around you, you must sharpen your eyes, peering at the faint lights in the distance.

Traveling, you realize that differences are lost: each city takes to resembling all cities, places exchange their form, order, distances, a shapeless dust cloud invades the continents.

Who are we, who is each one of us, if not a combinatoria of experiences, information, books we have read, things imagined?

Photography has a meaning only if it exhausts all possible images.

Every time I must find something to do that will look like something a little beyond my capabilities.

At times the mirror increases a thing’s value, at times denies it.

It was the hour in which objects lose the consistency of shadow that accompanies them during the night and gradually reacquire colors, but seem to cross meanwhile an uncertain limbo, faintly touched, just breathed on by light; the hour in which one is least certain of the world's existence.