This book is a struggle against the non-humanness of the undisciplined photograph.

Any film is correct, realistic, forceful, many times before it is charming.

The actual physical storage-battery of the actor is many hundred miles away.
As a substitute, the human quality must come in the marks of the presence of the producer.

The entire painting must have his brushwork.

If we compare it to a love-letter it must be in his handwriting rather than worked on a typewriter.