Photographs are not ideas. They give us ideas.
Man exists, turns up, appears on the scene and only afterwards, defines himself
How can I, who was not able to retain my own past, hope to save that of another?
If I did not publish this autobiography [Les Mots] sooner and in its most radical form, it is because I considered it exaggerated.
Our responsibility is much greater than we might have supposed, because it involves all mankind.
I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.