”You see, I’m not interested in mediocrity in photography. I’m not interested in selling cat shit to dogs. I just want to do my own thing. If people like my work, all the better. If they don’t, too bad.”
”Reading was my escape and my comfort, my consolation, my stimulant of choice: reading for the pure pleasure of it, for the beautiful stillness that surrounds you when you hear an author’s words reverberating in your head.”
”When I was young, I expected people to give me more than they could—continuous friendship, permanent emotion.
Now I have learned to expect less of them than they can give—a silent companionship. And their emotions, their friendship, and noble gestures keep their full miraculous value in my eyes; wholly the fruit of grace.”
”What the pathetic commonplace heads with which the world is crammed really lack are two closely related faculties: that of forming judgments and that of producing ideas of their own.
But these are lacking to a degree which he who is not one of them cannot easily conceive, so that he cannot easily conceive the dolefulness of their existence. It is this deficiency, however, which explains on one hand the poverty of the scribbling which in all nations passes itself off for literature, and on the other the fate that overtakes true and genuine men who appear among such people.”