To photograph is to hold one's breath, when all faculties converge to capture fleeting reality. It's at that precise moment that mastering an image becomes a great physical and intellectual joy.
Henri Cartier-Bresson
I’ll have to take my chances.
I was taught to become a plant.
This is serious.
I wish I’d become a plant earlier.
All he wants to do is sit in the sun.
I’ve been a plant for several days, now.
Why do you think you’re a plant?
The room was quiet.
That’s how we’ve gotten along.
Let’s have a look at it.
It sat. There was silence.
How do you explain that?
There was a balance struck: it was enough.
Nothing had altered.
How could it be the same?
After all, there was the memory of a happiness.
She had known the passion of love.
He smiled a little, as if the silence pleased him.