It's so interesting that we think we know the rules to this game, this total hypothetical game called, "Would you," "If you had it to do over." It's not out there.

I am not a new journalist, whatever that is. I just sit here at the typewriter and bang away at the old forms.

It's always hard to remember love - years pass and you say to yourself, was I really in love or was I just kidding myself? Was I really in love or was I just pretending he was the man of my dreams? Was I really in love or was I just desperate?

I am continually fascinated at the difficulty intelligent people have in distinguishing what is controversial from what is merely offensive.

That [photographs] disturb readers is exactly as it should be: that's why photojournalism is often more powerful than written journalism.

Getting older means you don't have to shave your legs anymore.

You can't retrieve you life (unless you're on Wikipedia, in which case you can retrieve an inaccurate version of it).