The realists do not take the photograph for a 'copy' of reality, but for an emanation of past reality, a magic, not an art.

The realists do not take the photograph for a 'copy' of reality, but for an emanation of past reality, a magic, not an art.

Why is it better to last than to burn?

Are not couturiers the poets who, from year to year, from strophe to strophe, write the anthem of the feminine body?

To know that one does not write for the other, to know that these things I am going to write will never cause me to be loved by the one I love (the other), to know that writing compensates for nothing, sublimates nothing, that it is precisely there where you are not--this is the beginning of writing.

Ultimately, Photography is subversive, not when it frightens, repels, or even stigmatizes, but when it is pensive, when it thinks.

Where you are tender, you speak your plural.