One of the worst habits of people who use photography, especially graphic designers, is to treat the photograph as a collection of information that can be fragmented at will. A photograph is indeed something simple. Because it is simple, it needs to be respected even more, for it does not endure. For example, a painting is so rich that it indeed can be fragmented—this is done in painting books that show the whole painting and focus on details, like a horse, a portrait, or a movement, which are parts of the painting. A painting, thus, consists of small, seemingly independent pieces that come together in a large canvas. However, a photograph is instantaneous, just as it is in the moment of capture, in the fraction of a second, as our eye catches it and the frame with its four corners captures it instantly; so too does the eye perceive it as a whole when it sees it published or displayed. Therefore, the photographer has a great responsibility at the moment of pressing the button for the frame, for the four corners, for the collection of information, for how these entered the frame, for how they were transformed, and for the final result. This responsibility continues when cropping or making the final selection. And when offering the photograph to the public, the photograph is a whole. Whoever fragments this whole, even the photographer themselves, has destroyed it. Therefore, the definitive choice of this whole is these four sides. This is why you will never see a fragmented photograph in a photography book. No album of a good photographer has both the photograph and a part of the photograph. This may occur in applied photography, such as in architecture, where a small element needs to be isolated, or in scientific photography. In artistic photography, it is an inviolable rule, a religious one: the photograph is not fragmented, it is a whole. If we assume that a photograph could consist of four smaller photographs, then as a whole, it is wrong, it is a bad photograph, because it should have been four smaller photographs. We, the photographers, thus make a great plea to the people of the image: respect the frame of the photograph as the photographer has chosen it. In the same way one respects a poem or a text, but even more so a photograph, because it relies solely on this overall, instantaneous proposition.