The people only understand what they can feel; the only orators that can affect them are those who move them.

Mystery hovers over all things here below.

Providence conceals itself in the details of human affairs, but becomes unveiled in the generalities of history.

Yet, in these autumn days when Nature expires, Here, in these veiled scenes, I find more attractions; It is a friend's sad goodbye; it is the last smile From lips that death is going to close forever!

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

Life is too short to spare an hour of it in the indulgence of this evil passion.

The photographer will never replace the painter; one is a man, the other a machine. Let us compare them no longer. (1848)