There's little to see, but things leave an impression. It's a matter of time and repetition. As something old wears thin or out, something new wears in. The handle on the pump, the crank on the churn, the dipper floating in the bucket, the latch on the screen, the door on the privy, the fender on the stove, the knees of the pants and the seat of the chair, the handle of the brush and the lid to the pot exist in time but outside taste; they wear in more than they wear out. It can't be helped. It's neither good nor bad. It's the nature of life.

Everyone in California is from somewhere else.

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

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

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

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

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