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

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.

I prefer a taken to a made photograph.

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

Writing has made me rich-not in money but in a couple hundred characters out there, whose pursuits and anguish and triumphs I've shared. I am unspeakably grateful at the life I have come to lead.

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

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