Every Exploration Is An Appropriation.

Ensnared In His Starvation, Chaplin-man Is Always Just Below Political Awareness. A Strike Is A Catastrophe For Him Because It Threatens A Man Truly Blinded By His Hunger; This Man Achieves An Awareness Of The Working-class Condition Only When The Poor Man And The Proletarian Coincide Under The Gaze (and The Blows) Of The Police.

The Lover's Fatal Identity Is Precisely This: I Am The One Who Waits.

All Those Young Photographers Who Are At Work In The World, Determined Upon The Capture Of Actuality, Do Not Know That They Are Agents Of Death.

Each Of Us Has His Own Rhythm Of Suffering.

To Hide A Passion Totally (or Even To Hide, More Simply, Its Excess) Is Inconceivable: Not Because The Human Subject Is Too Weak, But Because Passion Is In Essence Made To Be Seen: The Hiding Must Be Seen: I Want You To Know That I Am Hiding Something From You, That Is The Active Paradox I Must Resolve: At One And The Same Time It Must Be Known And Not Known: I Want You To Know That I Don't Want To Show My Feelings: That Is The Message I Address To The Other.