Mme de Genlis 1780 :
"While leaving Nice one finds the old castle of Montalban taken by the French in 1744. Two miles further, we stopped at the sight of the tower of Eze,dominating over the sea, and whose situation is admirable; at the end of an hour, we took again our walk. This road is perfectly named the cornice; in many places it is so narrow that someone can hardly pass there."


George Sand 1868 :
"It is truly a fairyhood that the panorama of the cornice…The ruins of Eze, planted on a cone of rock with a marvellous sugar loaf stop the glance inevitably. It's the most beautiful point of view of the road, the most complete, the best made up one. There is for foreground the formidable breach of mountains wich opens herself just enough to let appear the Saracen fortress at the bottom of an abyss dominating another abyss. Above this gigantic prospect, where the grace and the roughness dispute without overcoming, rise with the maritime skyline, a colossal spectrum… it is Corsica."


Stéphen Liégeard 1887 :
"Eze… sinks at the top of an isolated pyramid, its silhouette get out hardly on the transparencies of the skyline…
The scratches of the path which goes down towards the strikes seems like the golden laces of its black blouse; The sun browned its face, the storm and the gun, with the glares of their thunders, shredded a diadem of ruins to him. Even the Alps themselves, the snow covered Alps seeing it from far, should not contemplate it without stupor. Surface or den, one wonder who suspended it likes that, if it's inhabited, by which way could you aboard it, and how, if you get there, it remains possible to leave it.


Jean Lorrain 1905:
"When the almond trees will be in flowers, and that the blue road will be splashed with pink fleeciness, which will be as many branches of plum trees or peach trees, at this moment you'll feel to assemble gulfs and headlands to Virgilienne poetry of our orchards of olive trees… Ah! the purplish silhouette of the rock of Eze, the golden arabesques of the Esterel in the setting, at the extremity of the Bay of the Angels, the nostalgia of the Latin sails, staining the horizon with rust…"


Victorien Sardou :
"From far, Eze seems naked, without vegetation, of the colour of the rock where he sat, and like a large heap of ashes. You hardly leave the cornice, the almond trees, the flowered peach trees, the thick and fatty foliage of the carob tree, the silver plated grey of the olive tree, and the green and thick grass of the meadows rest your tired eyes of the whiteness of the road… Then you gain the village, which offers you the proud aspect of an impregnable fortress. Access crawl, surrounding walls, dwelling all is cut, built in the rock and makes one with it, so much that we does not distinguish which one is work of nature, and which one is the work of man."