Photographed images do not seem to be statements about the world so much as pieces of it, miniatures of reality that anyone can make or acquire

Sanity is a cozy lie.

A family's photograph album is generally about the extended family and, often, is all that remains of it.

The taste for quotations (and for the juxtaposition of incongruous quotations) is a Surrealist taste.

A fiction about soft or easy deaths is part of the mythology of most diseases that are not considered shameful or demeaning.

What is the most beautiful in virile men is something feminine; what is most beautiful in feminine women is something masculine.

I haven't been everywhere, but it's on my list.

In place of a hermeneutics we need an erotics of art.

Surrealism in painting amounted to little more than the contents of a meagerly stocked dream world: a few witty fantasies, mostly wet dreams and agoraphobic nightmares.

It is easier to endure than to change. But once one has changed, what was endured is hard to recall.

A large part of the popularity and persuasiveness of psychology comes from its being a sublimated spiritualism: a secular, ostensibly scientific way of affirming the primacy of "spirit" over matter.

Dada was an extreme protest against the physical side of painting. It was a metaphysical attitude.

Talk to me about sadness. I talk about it too much in my own head but I never mind others talking about it either; I occasionally feel like I tremendously need others to talk about it as well.

It's been a huge joy, this experience of being a mom ... I don't know how to articulate it yet, because it is so fresh.

It means the most when your team always supports you.

Conservative talk radio hosts have conned the American people into thinking there is such a thing as a pro-life, pro-war, pro-gun, pro-death penalty Christian.

This is the Homosexuality Is An Abomination Club, right?

I almost can't even put to words how happy I am that I got married.

Where there is no common power, there is no law

Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, That you would have me seek into myself For that which is not in me?