Thirty-six satisfactory exposures on a roll means a photographer is not trying anything new

There's only one rule in photography - never develop colour film in chicken noodle soup.

If you do not see what is around you every day, what will you see when you go to Tangiers?

A photographer who wants to see, a photographer who wants to make fine images, must recognize the value in the familiar.

No amount of technical knowledge and competence is, of itself, sufficient to make a craftperson into an artist. That requires caring - passionate caring about ultimate things.

The camera points both ways. In expressing the subject you also express yourself.

Creation and creativity are inextricably linked.

Consciously and unconsciously, an artist engaged in serious work is always raising or dealing with the question, 'What really matters?'

Not every work of art is or need be a heavily profound statement.

The abstracting of visual elements in order to recognize their particularity has become automatic, but seeing, combining, and creating them as integrated 'wholes' will remain a lifelong challenge.

Every artist is, first of all, a craftperson thoroughly knowledgeable about the materials, tools, and techniques of his or her particular medium and skilled in using many of them.

There is no greater fulfillment as the pursuit of dreams.

Every transaction has its process. Until you submit to it, you will always be living below potential.

How can I study from below, that which is above?

Persuading people through technology is the next social revolution. Facebook demonstrates just how powerful it will be.

I wasn't trying to be anything. I was just myself.

I can only assume," said Jace, "that mortal emotions amuse you because you have none of your own.

that's it - hundreds of texts and conversations, thousands upon thousands of words spoken and sent, all boiled down into a single line. is that what relationships become?

A snake will always be a snake, even if you put a chain around its neck and try to make it walk upright.

How strange and awful is the synthesis of life and death in the gusty winds and falling leaves of an autumnal day!

My falcon now is sharp and passing empty, and till she stoop she must not be full-gorged, for then she never looks upon her lure.