Best 2475 quotes in «photography quotes» category

I cannot make your memories, But I can save some for you.

I developed a thirst for great art, but it wasn’t until I was 20 that I finally visited my first museum, the Prado in Madrid. There, in 1968, my interest was caught by the paintings of Luis de Morales, a 16th-century artist from the harsh Extremadura region of Spain. Morales was a Mannerist, like El Greco or Parmigianino, who painted very graceful figures with long necks and limbs. He did a magnificently smooth sfumato modelling. But the effect that impressed me the most was a fine line that he applied around all of his figures. He didn’t need those illustrative lines, but they really made his figures ‘pop’ off the background.

I don't need a day to celebrate as world photography day. As a photographer for me every day is photography day.

i dream my photograph, and i photograph my dream...

I expect you know what this is, don’t you?” Rincewind stared down at the box. It had a round glass eye protruding from the center of one face, and a lever at the back. Not wholly”, he said. It’s a device for making pictures quickly”, said Twoflower. „Quite a new invention. I’m rather proud of it but, look, I don’t think these gentlemen would – well, I mean they might be – sort of apprehensive? Could you explain it to them? I’ll reimburse them for their time, of course.” He’s got a box with a demon in it that draws pictures”, said Rincewind shortly. Do what the madman says and he’ll give you gold.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, why did God invent captions?

I feel that the Photograph creates my body or mortifies it, according to its caprice (apology of this mortiferous power: certain Communards paid with their lives for their willingness or even their eagerness to pose on the barricades: defeated, they were recognized by Thiers's police and shot, almost every one).

If it can happen in your mind, it can happen in your camera

If the same visual seen differently by different persons they will be photographers.

If Life worked on auto mode then manual mode for photography would have never existed.

If life worked on auto mode then there manual mode for photography would have never existed.

If the eye does not see, the camera would not either

If you don’t capture the moments, it will be gone forever.

if you have the tools but do not have the visual concept, the tools do not work

If you're waiting for a sign from the skies to become a great photographer, the extraordinary images that suddenly appear before you are exactly those signs you are looking for!

I guess if there’s one thing I can say about the 21st century, it’s that the 21st century is all flash and no substance… everything is digital, nothing but files of invisible electronic data on computers and mindless zombies on their cellular phones… it’s sad how because of the digital age, society is ultimately doomed. Nothing in the digital age is real anymore, and you know, they say celluloid film and ray tube televisions and maybe even paper might become obsolete in this century? …What’s most annoying is that nobody cares, they’ve just learned to accept the digital age and get addicted to it… none of them are ever going to step up and say to the world, “you’re all a bunch of sheep!” and even if they did say anything, I doubt anyone would listen… they’re all too obsessed and attached to their cellular phones and overly big televisions and whatever other moronic things they’ve got these days… it almost makes me want an apocalypse to happen, to erase digital technology and force the world to start over again.

If your photo looks happy while you are unhappy, then the photo has no meaning! If your photo looks unhappy while you are happy, again the photo has no meaning! Only if a photo captures your true emotions, it will be meaningful!

I had a dream about you last night. We were in your old Civic. Nine Inch Nails was turned up on the stereo and I was taking pictures of you behind the wheel with my disposable camera. We went through the drive through at El Pollo Loco, placed an order for a hundred bucks worth of food, and then just drove off at the window. I miss being stupid with you.

I grew up in an era that was a golden age of the blockbuster, when something we might call a family film could have universal appeal. That's something I want to see again. In terms of the tone of the film, it looks at where we are as a people and has a universality about human experience.

I have a print - you can buy them at the Victoria and Albert Museum - of a photograph of the village street of Thetford, taken in 1868, in which William Smith is not. The street is empty. There is a grocer's shop and a blacksmith's and a stationary cart and a great spreading tree, but not a single human figure. In fact William Smith - or someone, or several people, dogs too, geese, a man on a horse - passed beneath the tree, went into the grocer's shop, loitered for a moment talking to a friend while the photograph was taken but he is invisible, all of them are invisible. The exposure of the photograph - sixty minutes - was so long that William Smith and everyone else passed through it and away leaving no trace. Not even so much of a mark as those primordial worms that passed through the Cambrian mud of northern Scotland and left the empty tube of their passage in the rock. I like that. I like that very much. A neat image for the relation of man to the physical world. Gone, passed through and away.

I have always loved being behind the camera. I love how it sets you apart in a crowd, so that you can float at the edges, pausing only occasionally to capture a moment. In its own way it’s easier than writing. As a writer, I have to know people, to talk to them, to barge into silences with a dozen of those little lighthearted quips that lead up to a conversation. And even then, they’re guarded around you. Nobody wants their drunken conversation written down somewhere. Being a photographer is different. People come to you. They smile. They flirt. They make sure you see only their best side. Nobody wants to upset the camera.

I have a dream… photography allows me to share it with you.

In an inexplicable way he was quite different from anyone else....He was smallish, neat, solidly built....Possibly he was a man who at once became self-conscious before a camera. Even snapshots tend to give him an air of swagger, a kind of cockiness he did not possess at all. [On. F. Scott Fitzgerald]

In a few years, it is very likely that this series will be considered a milestone in the history of Singapore photography.

In a field where else you found a stack of revealing nature photographs, of supernude nature photographs, split beaver of course nature photographs, photographs full of 70s bush, nature taking come from every man from miles around, nature with come back to me just dripping from her lips. The stack came up to your eye, you saw: nature is big into bloodplay, nature is into extreme age play, nature does wild inter- racial, nature she wants you to pee in her mouth, nature is dead and nature is sleeping and still nature is on all fours, a horse it fucks nature to death up in Oregon, nature is hot young amateur redheads, the foxes are all in their holes for the night, nature is hot old used-up cougars, nature makes gaping fake-agony faces, nature is consensual dad- on-daughter, nature is completely obsessed with twins, nature doing specialty and nature doing niche, exotic females they line up to drip for you, nature getting paddled as hard as you can paddle her, oh a whitewater rapid with her ass in the air, high snowy tail on display just everywhere.

I have found my way, step by step, proceeding from touch points that have emerged, some through conscious choice and some through dream state discovery.

I look for ambiguity because life is ambiguous!

I'm not constantly looking for the "right" in my thoughts. I am, actually, scared of absolute “rights”. Therefore, I don't think my book will appeal to people who seek concrete formulas from me to be happy and who have designed their lives mechanically. But I do believe my book can give something to people who live their lives going from information to information like a bee, who depend on their own syntheses as the outcomes and have flexible thought, and who could be an "individual".

Incluso en esos días, los fotográfos de Geographic tenían fama por algo más que las fotografías. Como uno de ellos expresó recientemente, "me encantaría haber vivido la vida que la gente cree que he tenido". Si la dinámica imagen del fotográfo de Geographic parece exagerada en novelas, folclore y cine, bueno, su vida es todavía nada aburrida. Nuestros equipos fotográficos han sobrevivido a ataques de tiburones, ejércitos invasores, aviones estrellados y volcanes en erupción.

I nearly believe you. The challenge remains extended-make me believe you -- Benjamin

In our time photojournalists were as important as the writers. Today not so. Photojournalism is diminishing. Now everyone is a free artist, which can only be in photography. For he is taking pictures! Releases the shutter and becomes an artist. Godsend people they are, otherwise the world was doomed. They are so significant. I fear bumping into one of these celebrities walking in the street, which would be very disrespectful indeed.

In the dry places, men begin to dream. Where the rivers run sand, there is something in man that begins to flow. West of the 98TH Meridian - where it sometimes rain and it sometimes doesn’t – towns, like weeds, spring up when it rains, dry up when it stops. But in a dry climate, the husk of the plant remains. The stranger might find, as if preserved in amber, something of the green life that was once lived there, and the ghosts of men who have gone on to a better place. The withered towns are empty, but not uninhabited. Faces sometimes peer out from the broken windows, or whisper from the sagging balconies, as if this place – now that is dead – had come to life. As if empty it is forever occupied. Reproduced in THE BORSCHT BELT from The Works of Love by Wright Morris by permission of the University of Nebraska Press. Copyright 1949, 1951 by Wright Morris.

in photography and as in life, it is the strong contrasts between dualities that make things interesting and beautiful...particularly speaking, darkness has to exist and be present in order for light to glow, and have meaning and purpose

În spatele fiecărei fotografii se află teama de a muri și dovada morții noastre.

In successful photography, you don't just look alive at the photo, but the photo also looks alive at you!

În spatele fiecărei fotografii, în afară de plăcere și bucurie, se află teama, teama de timpul care trece, de vremelnicia lui, teama de a vedea și apoi de a nu mai vedea, de a trăi și apoi de a nu mai trăi, de a fi trăit fără să lași vreo urmă doveditoare, vreo amintire tangibilă; în spatele fiecărei fotografii se află teama de a muri și dovada morții noastre.

In the context of photography , there was a luck. But the luck will come, when the photographer is ready.

In the parlor was a huge camera on wheels like the ones used in public parks, and the backdrop of a marine twilight, painted with homemade paints, and the walls papered with pictures of children at memorable moments: the first Communion, the bunny costume, the happy birthday. Year after year, during contemplative pauses on afternoons of chess, Dr. Urbino had seen the gradual covering over of the walls, and he had often thought with a shudder of sorrow that in the gallery of casual portraits lay the germ of the future of the city, governed and corrupted by those unknown children, where note even the ashes of his glory would remain.

I still have my dad's phone. I keep it and a charging cord hidden in Harold's trunk next to the spare tire. A ton of pictures on his phone were of leafless branches dividing up the sky, like the view I had as we floated under that sycamore tree. I always wondered what he saw in that, in the split-apart sky.

I see it all through the lens of my camera—the flurry of movement, the venue staff in black T-shirts, giving orders into their headsets. As I take it all in, my mind weighs the texture, the composition, the possibility of each changing scene, and I struggle to hold back, to keep my finger from pressing too soon. That’s my biggest flaw as a photographer. I’m impatient—trigger-happy. I want the shot now, now, now, click, click, click, and if I could just wait a second more, the moment would really flourish.

Is it possible to further improve something excellent? Yes, it is possible and an uber-excellent photo of an excellent view is proof for this!

I take same picture twice, First with my heart then camera.

In the years that I could not see him, I came to know my father through the medium of photography. My perceptions of him were forged on black-and-white squares that stole an instant out of history and immortalized it between the pages of a family album. When I summoned up the image of the man, it came to me frozen, black-bordered, flat. He stood pale above the creases of his uniform, framed in the foamy wake of some ship, drops of sunlight caught in the buttons on his jacket. He winked at me from the liberty ports of countless exotic places. In an atrocious hand he scrawled stilted, affectionate words to the stranger that bore his name and his features, telling of adventures far away, misbehavings under suns hotter than that which shone over the Greater German Reich.

În ziua de azi, odată cu apariția aparatelor digitale, fotografia și-a pierdut o parte din suflet. Pozele nu mai au acel caracter crucial și definitiv pe care-l aveau cele clasice. Bună sau proastă, o fotografie este irevocabilă și rămânea fixată pe peliculă. Developarea unui film scotea la iveală în mod implacabil și cronologic imagini reușite și imagini ratate; imposibil să scapi de verdicte și de statistici. Chiar dacă puteai să multiplici fotografiile și să schimbi filmul, fiecare imagine captată avea o valoare unică și reprezenta un mic miracol. Ultima fotografie avea un statut special, o savoare deosebită. Era adeseori făcută la repezeală, doar ca să se termine filmul mai repede; dar uneori, dimpotrivă, amânai s-o faci, erai atent, calculai, voiai să fie o încununare a întregului film. Abia atunci puteai să-l rebobinezi.

I refuse to have my vagina photographed because I have no interest in being desired on the basis of its appearance. It has taken me decades to appreciate its power and beauty, and not merely because it birthed a child. Responsive to tenderness and the source of a luminous ecstasy, my vagina has enabled me to transcend an otherwise limited sense of self. I feel no need to make it conform to another’s aesthetic or have it applauded by strangers.

I see myself through others eyes and I am made anew.

It has occurred to me that when one is raised in the absence of culture – without access to galleries and museums – one has to fill the void. I turned to books, album covers, magazines, slides and prints – anything visually stimulating that I could lay my hands on.

It used to be thought, when the candid images were not common, that showing something that needed to be seen, bringing a painful reality closer, was bound to goad viewers to feel more. In a world in which photography is brilliantly at the service of consumerist manipulations, no effect of a photograph of a doleful scene can be taken for granted.

I think the thing i like about photography is that the image you capture will always be unique , never to be captured that way again.

It is through living that we discover ourselves, at the same time as we discover the world around us.