Photography is better than art. It is a solar phenomenon in which the artist collaborates with the sun.

Silence,--the applause of real and durable impressions.

Private passions grow tired and wear themselves out; political passions, never.

If they say "you have your last chance to look at the world", I wish that look would from Çamlıca of Istanbul.

Ink is the transcript of thought.

Photography is better than art. It is a solar phenomenon in which the artist collaborates with the sun.

The death of a man's wife is like cutting down an ancient oak that has long shaded the family mansion. Henceforth the glare of the world, with its cares and vicissitudes falls upon the old widower's heart, and there is nothing to break their force, or shield him from the full weight of misfortune. It is as if his right hand were withered; as if one wing of his angel was broken, and every movement that he made brought him to the ground.