A Quote by Stephen Chbosky

I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories. — © Stephen Chbosky
I was looking at the photographs and I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories.
As I was walking up the stairs to dad's old room, and I was looking at the photographs, I started thinking that there was a time when these weren't memories. That someone actually took the photograph, and the people in the photograph had just eaten lunch or something.
You have your wonderful memories," people said later, as if memories were solace. Memories are not. Memories are by definition of times past, things gone. Memories are the Westlake uniforms in the closet, the faded and cracked photographs, the invitations to the weddings of the people who are no longer married, the mass cards from the funerals of the people whose faces you no longer remember. Memories are what you no longer want to remember.
Every year, the memories I have of my father become more faint, unclear, and distant. once they were vivid and true, then they became like photographs, and now they are more like photographs of photographs.
Every time I am looking into the depths of somebody's brain, I'm thinking, 'This is what makes a person who they are. That structure contains memories. Everything that they've ever experienced is right in there.'
It wasn't until I realised that I could actually take nice photographs that I started to become passionate about it. I then got a few jobs working for magazines in London, and I would get terribly excited and intense about doing a job and taking photographs and looking through the lens to capture something amazing.
Photographs put time into such a perspective. They humble us and our selfish memories.
Memories have no life. They're just pale reminders of a time that's gone-like faded photographs.
But there are times when thinking is misplaced, like when taking photographs. You cannot think your way to making photographs; you can photograph your way to clearer thinking.
Sometimes I think the only memories I have are those that I’ve created around photographs of me as a child. Maybe I’m creating my own life. I distrust any memories I do have. They may be fictions, too.
I don't consider [my] photographs fashion photographs. The photographs were for fashion, but at the same time they had an ulterior motive, something more to do with the world in general.
From the time I started taking photographs, I started working with plastics. I've always treated plastic like it was marble or gemstone or fine glass. I've always gotten the most out of it. I love it!
In terms of my peer group, nobody's parents were dying of old age. There was no dialogue to have among friends. I had that experience, and then 10 years later, I started thinking about writing about it. It's obviously an indelible thing when that happens, and I wasn't looking for material at the time or anything; it just started becoming relevant to me.
Things changed a little when I started taking photographs for magazines. I was afraid in the beginning. I thought, "Oh I can't do it, because I have never taken a photographs commercially for a magazine." But I wanted to learn so I started. But when I took models from agencies, I took beginners. Sometimes they were really good, but you have to work with them. You have to be good with women and the boys.
When you're single, you go out and party and it's fun, but in a relationship, you experience things together. It's just sharing the memories and looking back on them together, remembering that it was an amazing time. And then thinking about it like it was just yesterday.
Much like photographs, I also love the idea that ghosts are memories frozen in time. We can be haunted by both just as horrifically. One really becomes a metaphor for the other.
When I talk to a man, I can always tell what he's thinking by where he is looking. If he is looking at my eyes, he is looking for intelligence. If he is looking at my mouth, he is looking for wisdom. But if he is looking anywhere else except my chest he's looking for another man.
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