Cameras, in short, were clocks for seeing, and perhaps in me someone very old still hears in the photographic mechanism the living sound of the wood.

Through the mythology of Einstein, the world blissfully regained the image of knowledge reduced to a formula.

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.

For me the noise of Time is not sad: I love bells, clocks, watches — and I recall that at first photographic implements were related to techniques of cabinetmaking and the machinery of precision: cameras, in short, were clocks for seeing, and perhaps in me someone very old still hears in the photographic mechanism the living sound of the wood.

Frontiers are physical as well as symbolic constructions

As Spectator I wanted to explore photography not as a question (a theme) but as a wound.

There is only one way left to escape the alienation of present day society: to retreat ahead of it.