Between the magnificence of the aristocratic throne and those of the imperial purple, between the great of the earth and the People, the bourgeoisie is proving itself petty; it degrades power to its own level instead of rising up to it.

The saving of candle-ends it has so long practised behind its counters, it now seeks to impose on its princes.

What may perhaps have been virtue in its shops is a blunder and a crime higher up.

I myself have wanted many things for the people, but I never should have begun by lopping off ten millions of francs from the new civil list.

In becoming, as it were, nearly the whole of France, the bourgeoisie owed to us the prosperity of the people, splendor without ostentation, grandeur without privilege." The father of Olivier Vinet was just now sulking with the government.
The robe of Keeper of the Seals, which had been his dream, was slow in coming to him.