The People Only Understand What They Can

Shall Not This Bygone Eden That We Knew In Our Eternal Life Have Shape And Hue? For Where Time Is Not Shall Not All Time Be? In That Calm Breast Whereto Our Souls Are Cleaving Shall We Not Find Our Loved Ones Beyond Grieving About The Hearth-stone Of Eternity?

Private Passions Tire And Exhaust Themselves, Public Ones Never.

Republicanism And Ignorance Are In Bitter Antagonism.

Photography Is Better Than Art. It Is A Solar Phenomenon In Which The Artist Collaborates With The Sun.

It Is The Qualities Of The Heart, Not Those Of The Face, That Should Attract Us In Women, Because The Former Are Durable, The Latter Transitory. So Lovable Women, Like Roses, Retain Their Sweetness Long After They Have Lost Their Beauty.