Writes have an island, a center of refuge, within themselves. It is the mind's anchorage, the soul's Great Good Place.

As the style of Faulkner grew out of his rage--out of the impotence of his rage--the style of Hemingway grew out of the depth andnuance of his disenchantment.

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

We're in the world of communications more and more, tough we're in communication less and less.

The camera eye is the one in the middle of our forehead, combining how we see with what there is to be seen.

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

After many months of writing, it occured to me that it might be possible to photograph, in the flesh, what I was attempting to capture in words. I bought a Rolleiflex camera and began to take pictures of objects or structures that were used and abused by human hands