I find the past so fascinating. Photographs are strange, almost surreal, almost here yet gone. I slip into thinking what the past must have been like and I enjoy creating that ambience and atmosphere - 1730 to around 1870 is the most interesting period.

Time was a thief, he stole your life away from you and the only way you could get it back was to outwit him and snatch it right back.

Why do cats sleep so much? Perhaps they've been trusted with some major cosmic task, an essential law of physics - such as: if there are less than five million cats sleeping at any one time the world will stop spinning.

I feel as if I’m waiting for something dreadful to happen, and then I realize it already has.

Sometimes I would like to cry. I close my eyes. Why weren't we designed so that we can close our ears as well? (Perhaps because we would never open them.) Is there some way that I could accelerate my evolution and develop earlids?

Life wasn't about becoming, was it? It was about being.

Love was the hardest thing. Don't let anyone ever tell you different.