“I realize more and more what it takes to be a really good photographer. You go in over your head, not just up to your neck.”

You put your camera around your neck along with putting on your shoes, and there it is, an appendage of the body that shares your life with you.

One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you’d be stricken blind.

A documentary photograph is not a factual photograph.

Sometimes in a hostile situation you stick around because hostility itself is important.

It is not enough to photograph the obviously picturesque.

The best way to go into an unknown territory is to go in ignorant, ignorant as possible, with your mind wide open, as wide open as possible and not having to meet anyone else’s requirement but your own.

I believe that what we call beautiful is generally a by-product.

Photography is a lot like telling a large predatory cat what to do-while an audience of people you can’t see watches you.

No country has ever closely scrutinized itself visually.

It is no accident that the photographer becomes a photographer any more than the lion tamer becomes a lion tamer.

Bring the viewer to your side, include him in your thought. He is not a bystander.

To me, beauty appears when one feels deeply, and art is an act of total attention.

Photography today appears to be in a state of flight… The familiar is made strange, the unfamiliar grotesque. The amateur forces his Sundays into a series of unnatural poses.

Pick a theme and work it to exhaustion… the subject must be something you truly love or truly hate.

One should really use the camera as though tomorrow you’d be stricken blind.

Life, for people, begins to crumble on the edges; they don’t realize it.

The best compliment was Ben Kingsley coming up to me, putting his hand on the back of my neck, and saying, “Good job, son.”.

My love is like a stone tied round my neck; it’s dragging me down to the bottom; but I love my stone. I can’t live without it.

Would that the Roman people had but one neck!

The way I play, I go through a set in a year. So I put ’58 Gibson Jumbo Bass frets on all my necks.

You have to grab life by the throat and squeeze before it grabs you by your neck and breaks it. Own your destiny.

I’d be in the backyard minding my own business. The other kids would call me names, like meatball head or neo-Calvinist. I’d run after them, but lucky for them the chain would snap my neck back.

While other kids were out playing and doing healthy things, I read an ancient judo book with a neck hold that was fatal to so many people they finally dropped it from judo.

I designed my whole image. That was all me. I just bought some regular clothes, threw a medallion around my neck, and that was it. The next thing I know, that’s the look.