A hundredth of a second here, a hundredth of a second there – even if you put them end to end, they still only add up to one, two, perhaps three seconds, snatched from eternity.
I always thought of photography as a naughty thing to do – that was one of my favorite things about it, and when I first did it, I felt very perverse.
A photograph never grows old. You and I change, people change all through the months and years, but a photograph always remains the same. How nice to look at a photograph of Mother or Father taken many years ago. You see them as you remember them. But as people live on, they change completely. That […]
A photograph is a secret about a secret. The more it tells you the less you know.
The camera cannot lie, but it can be an accessory to untruth.
I really believe there are things nobody would see if I didn’t photograph them.
“A daguerreotype likeness, do you mean?” asked Phoebe, with less reserve; for, in spite of prejudice, her own youthfulness sprang forward to meet his. “I don’t much like pictures of that sort – they are so hard and stern; besides dodging away from the eye, and trying to escape altogether. They are conscious of looking […]
There are no maps to where no one has gone before.
Calvin: Dad, how come old photographs are always black and white? Didn’t they have color film back then? Dad: Sure they did. In fact, those old photographs are in color. It’s just the world was black and white then. Calvin: Really? Dad: Yep. The world didn’t turn color until sometime in the 1930s, and it […]
A sailor complained to Picasso that his paintings were not realistic, and then took out a tiny snapshot of his child for the painter to see. Picasso squinted seriously at the snapshot and handed it back to the father, merely saying, “Small, isn’t she?”