The press, the machine, the railway, the telegraph are premises whose thousand-year conclusion no one has yet dared to draw.
If you want sex, have an affair. If you want a relationship, buy a dog.
Being a child is horrible. It is slightly better than being a tree or a piece of heavy machinery but not half as good as being a domestic cat.
Show me a frigid woman and, nine times out of ten, I'll show you a little man.
I jest, of course; premature ejaculation isn't a laughing matter for anyone, except for your friends when you tell them about it on the phone the next morning. My first marriage ended because the main event was invariably over before my husband got his socks off.
What men don't want, in fact what anyone who's any sort of thrill-seeking, intelligent adult doesn't want, is some crushing bore describing their emotions in real time every waking hour.
What I find most upsetting about this new all-consuming beauty culture is that the obsession with good looks, and how you can supposedly attain them, is almost entirely female-driven.
I had a good few years where I was a little wild and off the leash. I don't really partake in drugs any more. I occasionally have a little dabble, very occasionally. I have no specific health routine. I'm vegetarian, my wife's nearly 20 years younger than me, good luck, good genes, sunshine.
The man who actually knows just what he wants in life has already gone a long way toward attaining it.
I guess we resist changing, because we are afraid of change.
It's up to us as photographers to give voice to the natural world.