John Berger
Poetry can repair no loss but it defies that the space which separates and it does this by continual labor of reassembling what has been scattered. — John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos (Bloomsbury Paperbacks,2014)
Poetry can repair no loss but it defies that the space which separates and it does this by continual labor of reassembling what has been scattered. — John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos (Bloomsbury Paperbacks,2014)
Nothing is ever the same as they said it was.It’s what I’ve never seen before that I recognize. — Diane Arbus, Revelations (Random House, 2003)
When there is love, the world is conquered by lovers. All the better for us: we are enriched by their radiance. Their happiness makes the air purer. A poem incarnate. It is beyond criticism. It defies explanation. That defiance is the nature of the poem. — Édouard Boubat, Notebooks, 1998
No one is anyone, one single immortal man is all men. Like Cornelius Agrippa, I am god, I am hero, I am philosopher, I am demon and I am world, which is a tedious way of saying that I do not exist. — Jorge Luis Borges, “The Immortal,” Labyrinths: Selected Stories & Other Writings. (New… Continue reading Jorge Luis Borges
I’m going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. — Jean-Paul Sartre, No Exit and Three Other Plays. (Vintage; Reissue edition, October 23, 1989) Originally published 1947.
The clouds go on breathing. They go on gathering cold rain, and drawing with chalk. — Loueva Smith, from “Clouds Live Forever,” Vanishing Points: Poems and Photographs of Texas Roadside Memorials, ed. Sarah Cortez (Texas Review Press, 2016)
[Give] me leave to forget you, darling, so I can be a man again. Instead of the empty flapping of a large bird’s wings. — Sarah Cortez, from “Orpheus Speaks,” Vanishing Points: Poems and Photographs of Texas Roadside Memorials, ed. Sarah Cortez (Texas Review Press, 2016)
It is the artist who is truthful, while the photographer is mendacious; for, in reality, time never stops cold. — Auguste Rodin
I used to think that I could never lose anyone if I photographed them enough. In fact, my pictures show me how much I’ve lost. — Nan Goldin
Sometimes the difference between living and dying is just a little bit. Sometimes the difference between living and dying is just a sigh. — Lauren E. Simonutti (1968-2012)