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

We make to ourselves pictures of facts. The picture is a model of reality

The photograph, after all, is just a photograph. Words will determine its meaning and status.

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

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

However much [photographs] may lie, they do so with the raw materials of truth.

In the blur of the photograph, time leaves its gleaming, snail-like track.