I came across this quote last night reading and falling asleep, this morning when I woke-up I was still thinking it over, so here it is. From "Incisions in History/Segments of Eternity" written by Hollis Frampton, first published in Artforum in October, 1974:
"As I sit writing this text, on one of the days of the only life I shall live, a fine April afternoon is passing outside my window. Like a novelist, or a painter, I have walled myself into a room, away from the passage of time. Photography, uniquely among the visual arts, allows us to have our cake and eat it too: if I were making images today, I could be outside, within that day, converting its appearances to the requirements of ecstasy. Instead I am enmeshed in very these words. But I can't find the words to tell you what it is like to be writing them."