Helmut Newton
[Photographer, b. 1920, Berlin, d. 2004, Los Angeles.]

 I might photograph myself fucking, but I wouldn’t exhibit it. A picture that I find most amusing is one that June took of me pissing, en contrejour, I’m looking around at the camera. It’s taken in the backyard in Ramatuelle, it’s evening, very romantic, and you see this stream of piss and the sun shining through. 

David Hockney
[Artist, b. 1937, Bradford, England, lives in Bridlington, Yorkshire; London; and Los Angeles.]

 It’s time to debate images, especially when someone’s going to prison for downloading them. 

Don DeLillo
[Writer, b. 1936, New York, lives in New York.]

 There is only one truth. Whoever controls your eyeballs runs the world. 

Hans Bellmer
[Artist, b. 1902, Kattowitz, Germany (now Katowice, Poland), d. 1975, Paris.]

 Perhaps there was more authentic danger in the photography that was banned—why shouldn’t one be able to produce it? But this new enthusiasm finally caused us some trouble, and it suffices to say, if I remember correctly, that it was in this way that my thoughts turned to the young maidens. 

Eugene Richards
[Photographer, b. 1944, Dorchester, Massachusetts, lives in New York.]

 Photojournalist? With a few exceptions, those of us working as photojournalists might now more appropriately call ourselves illustrators. For, unlike real reporters, whose job it is to document what’s going down, most of us go out in the world expecting to give form to the magazine, or to newspaper editor’s ideas, using what’s become over the years a pretty standardized visual language. So we search for what is instantly recognizable, supportive of the text, easiest to digest, or most marketable—more mundane realities be damned. 

Helmut Newton
[Photographer, b. 1920, Berlin, d. 2004, Los Angeles.]

 If I say to a person, I want to see you naked, and in my head I say, Well I would like to fuck her but the reason I don’t is because I’m scared to gets AIDS or something... 

Jesse Helms
[Politician and U.S. senator, b. 1921, Monroe, North Carolina, d. 2008, Raleigh, North Carolina.]

 There is a big difference between The Merchant of Venice and a photograph of two males of different races in an erotic pose on a marble table top. 
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