Intelligence is really a kind of taste: taste in ideas.
I was not looking for my dreams to interpret my life, but rather for my life to interpret my dreams
Photographs are perhaps the most mysterious of all the objects that make up, and thicken, the environment we recognize as modern. Photographs really are experience captured, and the camera is the ideal arm of consciousness in its acquisitive mood.
On Photography "Photography does not create eternity, as art does; it embalms time, rescuing it simply from its proper corruption
When I first became interested in photography, I thought it was the whole cheese. My idea was to have it recognized as one of the fine arts. Today I don't give a hoot in hell about that. The mission of photography is to explain man to man and each man to himself
I envy paranoids; they actually feel people are paying attention to them.
Volume depends precisely on the writer's having been able to sit in a room every day, year after year, alone.
AIDS occupies such a large part in our awareness because of what it has been taken to represent. It seems the very model of all the catastrophes privileged populations feel await them.
Anthropology has always struggled with an intense, fascinated repulsion towards its subject.... [The anthropologist] submits himself to the exotic to confirm his own inner alienation as an urban intellectual.
Ours is a culture based on excess, on overproduction; the result is a steady loss of sharpness in our sensory experience. All the conditions of modern life -- its material plenitude, its sheer crowdedness -- conjoin to dull our sensory faculties.
We live under continual threat of two equally fearful, but seemingly opposed, destinies: unremitting banality and inconceivable terror. It is fantasy, served out in large rations by the popular arts, which allows most people to cope with these twin specters.
The camera makes everyone a tourist in other people`s reality, and eventually in one`s own.
The becoming of man is the history of the exhaustion of his possibilities.
A fiction about soft or easy deaths is part of the mythology of most diseases that are not considered shameful or demeaning.
Anthropology has always struggled with an intense, fascinated repulsion towards its subject. . . . [The anthropologist] submits himself to the exotic to confirm his own inner alienation as an urban intellectual.