The last sentence of a book is, of course, where you have to stop.

The possession of a camera can inspire something akin to lust. And like all credible forms of lust, it cannot be satisfied.

The photographer both loots and preserves, denounces and consecrates.

Photographs may be more memorable than moving images, because they are a neat slice of time, not a flow. Each still photograph is a privileged moment turned into a slim object that one can keep and look at again.

All possibility of understanding is rooted in the ability to say no.

Reading usually precedes writing. And the impulse to write is almost always fired by reading. Reading, the love of reading, is what makes you dream of becoming a writer.

It seems positively unnatural to travel without taking a camera along... The very activity of taking pictures is soothing and assuages general feelings of disorientation that are likely to be exacerbated by travel.