We were living in the Slad Road when my father left us. I was about three.

It was a world that I wanted to record because it was such a miracle visitation to me.

What she did was to open our eyes to details of country life such as teaching us names of wild flowers and getting us to draw and paint and learn poetry.

For the first time I was learning how much easier it was to leave than to stay behind and love.

Bees blew like cake-crumbs through the golden air, white butterflies like sugared wafers, and when it wasn't raining a diamond dust took over which veiled and yet magnified all things

But our waking life, and our growing years, were for the most part spent in the kitchen, and until we married, or ran away, it was the common room we shared.

Such a morning it is when love leans through geranium windows and calls with a cockerel's tongue. When red-haired girls scamper like roses over the rain-green grass, and the sun drips honey.

I was set down from the carrier's cart at the age of three; and there with a sense of bewilderment and terror my life in the village began.

All civilizations at some time have fallen into this total terror, when the mystery of life was a kind of panic only to be assuaged by the spilling of blood.

I wanted to communicate what I had seen, so that others could see it.

In London, Man is the most secret animal on earth.

Fall seven times, Stand up eight

Humility and repentance are necessary to restore your relationship with God.

To Ryuji the smile seemed as brittle as fine glass crystal and very dangerous

When two people fight, they think less and speak more. They don’t listen to the opponent. They draw their own conclusions.

Every organism exists as a vehicle for the ennoblement of water into consciousness.

Photography is not about the thing photographed. It is about how that thing looks photographed.

Such were garrulous and noisy eras, which no longer yield any sound, but the Grecian or silent and melodious era is ever soundingand resounding in the ears of men.

When you find your opponent's weak spot, hammer it.

I have to write because if I don't get something down then after a while I feel it's going to bang the side of my head off.

Can you understand your own dreams, which arise with mushrooms' rank richness in the night-forests within your skull?