Frank Horvat
[Photographer, b. 1928, Abbazia, Italy, now Opatija, Croatia, lives in Paris.]

 To me, photography is not just a visual art, but something closer to poetry—or at least to some poetry, such as the haiku. 

Jack Kerouac (Jean-Louis Lebris de Kerouac)
[Writer, b. 1922, Lowell, Massachusetts, d. 1969, St. Petersburg, Florida.]

 Anybody doesn’t like these pitchers don’t like potry, see? Anybody don’t like potry go home see television shots of big hatted cowboys being tolerated by kind horses. Robert Frank, Swiss, unobtrusive, nice, with that little camera that he raises and snaps with one hand he sucked a sad poem right out of America onto film, taking rank among the poets of the world. To Robert Frank I now give this message: You got eyes. 

Luc Delahaye
[Photographer, b. 1962, Tours, France, lives in Paris.]

 What you want to be is a poet…. To voice the real and at the same time create an image that is a world in itself, with its own coherence, its autonomy and sovereignty; an image that thinks. 

Edmund Teske
[Photographer, b. 1911, Chicago, Illinois, d. 1996, Los Angeles.]

 Photography! Summation of the life experience
Exquisite focal point of all being
Aromatic distillation
Inmost
And ultimate
Light. 

Robert Adams
[Photographer and writer, b. 1937, Orange, New Jersey, lives in Astoria, Oregon.]

 Both poetry and photography tend toward metaphor. 

Stephen Spender
[Writer, poet, and critic, b. 1909, London, England, d. 1995, London.]

 Dead friend, this picture proves there was an instant
When—mirror of midday—you sent
Shadow and light from living flesh into
The sensitive dark instrument. 

Charis Wilson
[Model, b. 1914, San Francisco, d. 2009, Santa Cruz, California.]

 Well, there’s a famous limerick on [making love with the model]:
While Titian was mixing rose madder,
His model was posed on a ladder,
Her position to Titian,
Suggested coition,
So he ran up the ladder and had her. 

Anders Petersen
[Photographer, b. 1944, Solna, Sweden, lives in Stockholm.]

 (Be wary of:
nicely formulated principles and truths.
useless feelings of guilt and sins of the past
or while we’re at it
a
photograph resembling pretty adjectives
on the other hand, I like private
diaries and family albums
 
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