The man who walks alone is soon trailed by the F.B.I.

Cats don't belong to people. They belong to places.

The man who comes to writing late, but is in essence a writer, may sometimes gain as much as he has lost: his experience of life has given him a subject, he is spared the youthful writer's self-torment and soul-searching.

The imagination made us human, but being human, becoming more human, is a greater burden than we imagined. We have no choice but to imagine ourselves more human than we are.

I prefer a taken to a made photograph.

The vast number of photographers, feeding on anything visible, overgraze the landscape the way cattle overgraze their pasture.

[We] make images to see clearly: then we see clearly what we have made.