“The ‘machine-gun’ approach to photography – by which many negatives are made with the hope that one will be good – is fatal to serious results.”

Photography is more than a medium for factual communication of ideas. It is a creative art.

I knew my destiny when I first experienced Yosemite.

You don’t make a photograph just with a camera. You bring to the act of photography all the pictures you have seen, the books you have read, the music you have heard, the people you have loved.

It is horrifying that we have to fight our own government to save the environment.

The term accessories has come to include a host of photographic gadgets of questionable value.

I hope that my work will encourage self expression in others and stimulate the search for beauty and creative excitement in the great world around us.

I believe in beauty. I believe in stones and water, air and soil, people and their future and their fate.

Not everybody trusts paintings but people believe photographs.

It is all very beautiful and magical here – a quality which cannot be described. You have to live it and breathe it, let the sun bake into you.

How high your awareness level is determines how much meaning you get from your world. Photography can teach you to improve your awareness level.

The quality of place, the reaction to immediate contact with earth and growing things that have a fugal relationship with mountains and sky, is essential to the integrity of our existence on this planet.

Photography, as a powerful medium of expression and communications, offers an infinite variety of perception, interpretation and execution.

A good photograph is knowing where to stand.

To photograph truthfully and effectively is to see beneath the surfaces.

Life is your art. An open, aware heart is your camera. A oneness with your world is your film. Your bright eyes and easy smile is your museum.

I can look at a fine art photograph and sometimes I can hear music.

My own sex, I hope, will excuse me, if I treat them like rational creatures, instead of flattering their fascinating graces, and viewing them as if they were in a state of perpetual childhood, unable to stand alone.

In happy ignorance, I sighed for a world I did not know, where I hoped to find every pleasure and enjoyment which my heart could desire; and now, on my return from that wide world, how many disappointed hopes and unsuccessful plans have I brought back!

What can I know? What ought I to do? What can I hope?

I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any evil or misfortune in the world.

Freedom is a mystic voyage we must embark on. A journey that swallows us into the oesophagus of aching dreams, until we reach the belly of hope.

If the Sun took away your hope today, only it can bring it back tomorrow.

Remember, to the last, that while there is life there is hope.

People think dreams aren’t real just because they aren’t made of matter, of particles. Dreams are real. But they are made of viewpoints, of images, of memories and puns and lost hopes.