Max Pam
[Photographer, b. 1949, Melbourne, Australia, lives in Perth, Australia.]

 [My photography teacher] gave me the Mexican Day Books of Edward Weston and just blew me away with this work. The fact that you could be this fabulous visual artist, with all this milieu of people like Diego Rivera and you could sleep with these gorgeous, amazing women, that you could live that life—that photography could deliver you that life. 

Marcel Proust
[Writer, b. 1871, Auteuil, Paris, d. 1922, Paris.]

 Photography is the product of complete alienation. 

Secondo Pia
[Lawyer and amateur photographer, b. 1855, Asti, Italy, d. 1941, Milan.]

 No human being could have painted this negative that lies hidden in the stains. ... If it was not painted, not made by human hands, then ... (On his 1898 photograph which highlighted the alleged face in what is known as “the Shroud of Turin.”) 

Adrian Piper
[Artist, b. 1948, Harlem, New York, lives in Hyannis, Massachusetts.]

 Racism is a visual pathology. 

Sylvia Plath
[Poet, b. 1932, Boston, Massachusetts, d. 1963, London.]

 It is best to meet in a cul-de-sac,
A palace of velvet
With windows of mirrors.
There one is safe,
There are no family photographs,
No rings through the nose, no cries. 

Platon (Platon Rivellis)
[Photographer, b. 1968, London, lives in New York.]

 When I was shooting Karl Rove, I said to him, “Mr. Rove, I’m just a guy from England trying to make it in America. Can you give me any advice?” and he said to me, “Sonny, if you’re shooting me, you’ve already made it.” 

Neil Postman
[Writer and media critic, b. 1931, New York, d. 2003, Queens, New York.]

 By itself photography cannot deal with the unseen, the remote, the internal, the abstract, it does not speak of “Man,” only of “a man”; not of “Tree,” only “a tree.” 

Harold Pinter
[Playwright, b. 1930, London, d. 2008, London.]

 I might even show you my photograph album. You might even see a face in it which might remind you of your own, of what you once were. You might see faces of others, in shadow, or cheeks of others turning, or jaws, or backs of necks, or eyes, dark under hats, which might remind you of others, whom you once knew, whom you thought long dead, but from whom you will still receive a sidelong glance.