Modern thought has transferred the spectral character of Death to the notion of time itself. Time has become Death triumphant over all.

The animal has secrets which, unlike the secrets of caves, mountains, seas are specifically addressed to man.

Hope is a contraband passed from hand to hand and story to story.

Painting is something that you need to do, if not every day, then certainly most days. It is almost like being a pianist: if you stop, you lose something.

Ever since the Greek tragedies, artists have, from time to time, asked themselves how they might influence ongoing political events.

Photography, because it stops the flow of life, is always flirting with death.

To be desired is perhaps the closest anybody in this life can reach to feeling immortal.