The quality of American life is an insult to the possibilities of human growth. . . the pollution of American space, with gadgetry and cars and TV and box architecture, brutalizes the senses, making gray neurotics of most of us. . .

I'm thankful for big tracts of woods and places where traffic's din is faint, if heard at all; thankful for places where stars in the night sky shine brightly without need for the glare of artificial lights designed to further commerce, convenience or security.

As photographs give people an imaginary possession of a past that is unreal, they also help people to take possession of space in which they are insecure.

I was not looking for my dreams to interpret my life, but rather for my life to interpret my dreams

I was not looking for my dreams to interpret my life, but rather for my life to interpret my dreams.

Life is not about significant details, illuminated a flash, fixed forever.

Photographs are.