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There Are, As We Know, Powerful And Illustrious Atheists. At Bottom, Led Back To The Truth By Their Very Force, They Are Not Absolutely Sure That They Are Atheists; It Is With Them Only A Question Of Definition, And In Any Case, If They Do Not Believe In God, Being Great Minds, They Prove God.

-Victor Hugo

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There Are, As We

Victor Hugo

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There Are, As We Know, Powerful And Illustrious Atheists. At Bottom, Led Back To The Truth By Their Very Force, They Are Not Absolutely Sure That They Are Atheists; It Is With Them Only A Question Of Definition, And In Any Case, If They Do Not Believe In God, Being Great Minds, They Prove God.

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Everything Changes. The Only Thing That Remains Immovable Across The Centuries And Fixes The Character Of A People Is Cooking.

Prayer Is An August Avowal Of Ignorance.

Nobody Knows Like A Woman How To Say Things At The Same Time Sweet And Profound. Sweetness And Depth, This Is All Of Woman; This Is All Of Heaven.

When Grace Is Joined With Wrinkles, It Is Adorable. There Is An Unspeakable Dawn In Happy Old Age.

Positive Thinking

Press On! A Better Fate Awaits Thee.

There Must Be People Who Pray Even For Those Who Never Pray.

The Parisian Is To The French What The Athenian Was To The Greeks: No One Sleeps Better Than He, No One Is More Openly Frivolous And Idle, No One Appears More Heedless. But This Is Misleading. He Is Given To Every Kind Of Listlessness, But When There Is Glory To Be Won He May Be Inspired With Every Kind Of Fury. Give Him A Pike And He Will Enact The Tenth Of August, A Musket And You Have Austerlitz. He Was The Springboard Of Napoleon And The Mainstay Of Danton. At The Cry Of "la Patrie" He Enrols, And At The Call Of Liberty He Tears Up The Pavements. Beware Of Him!

A Great Artist Is A Great Man In A Great Child.

Taste Is The Common Sense Of Genius.

To Rescue From Oblivion Even A Fragment Of A Language Which Men Have Used And Which Is In Danger Of Being Lost -that Is To Say, One Of The Elements, Whether Good Or Bad, Which Have Shaped And Complicated Civilization -is To Extend The Scope Of Social Observation And To Serve Civilization.

To Meditate Is To Labour; To Think Is To Act.

Lastly, This Threefold Poetry Flows From Three Great Sources - The Bible, Homer, Shakespeare.... The Bible Before The Iliad, The Iliad Before Shakespeare.

Toleration Is The Best Religion.

Our Mind Is Enriched By What We Receive, Our Heart By What We Give.

Wherever The Turkish Hoof Trods, No Grass Grows.

A War Between Europeans Is A Civil War.

Genius Is A Promontory Jutting Out Into The Infinite.

If A Writer Wrote Merely For His Time, I Would Have To Break My Pen And Throw It Away.

Forget Not, Never Forget That You Have Promised Me To Use This Silver To Become An Honest Man.... Jean Valjean, My Brother: You Belong No Longer To Evil, But To Good. It Is Your Soul That I Am Buying For You. I Withdraw It From Dark Thoughts And From The Spirit Of Perdition, And I Give It To God!

I See Black Light (his Last Words)

There Are People Who Observe The Rules Of Honor As One Observes The Stars, From A Great Distance.

We Must Never Fear Robbers Or Murderers. They Are Dangers From Outside, Small Dangers. It Is Ourselves We Have To Fear. Prejudice Is The Real Robber, Vice The Real Murderer. Why Should We Be Troubled By A Threat To Our Person Or Our Pocket? What We Have To Beware Of Is The Threat To Our Souls'.

The Truth Of An Upright Man Must Be Accepted On His Own Terms. Moreover, Since Natures Vary, We Must Agree That All The Beauties Of Human Excellence May Be Fostered By Faiths That We Do Not Share.

The Real, Native South Seas Food Is Lousy. You Can't Eat It.

God Will Reward You,' He Said. 'you Must Be An Angel Since You Care For Flowers.

A Garden To Walk In And Immensity To Dream In--what More Could He Ask? A Few Flowers At His Feet And Above Him The Stars.

Whatever Causes Night In Our Souls May Leave Stars.

Jean Prouvaire Was Timid Only In Repose. Once Excited, He Burst Forth, A Sort Of Mirth Accentuated His Enthusiasm, And He Was At Once Both Laughing And Lyric.

To Put Everything In Balance Is Good, To Put Everything In Harmony Is Better.

Nature Is Pitiless; She Never Withdraws Her Flowers, Her Music, Her Fragrance, And Her Sunlight From Before Human Cruelty Or Suffering.

I Dislike Wealth And Prosperity, Especially That Of Other Men.

Sublime Upon Sublime Scarcely Presents A Contrast, And We Need A Little Rest From Everything, Even The Beautiful.

She Had Had Sweet Dreams, Which Possibly Arose From The Fact That Her Little Bed Was Very White.

This Book Should Be Read As One Would Read The Book Of A Dead Man.

Liberation Is Not Deliverance.

A Saint Addicted To Excessive Self-abnegation Is A Dangerous Associate; He May Infect You With Poverty, And A Stiffening Of Those Joints Which Are Needed For Advancement-in A Word, With More Renunciation Than You Care For-and So You Flee The Contagion.

Nothing Makes A Man So Adventurous As An Empty Pocket.

Every Bird Which Flies Has The Thread Of The Infinite In Its Claw. Germination Includes The Hatching Of A Meteor And The Tap Of A Swallow's Bill Breaking The Egg, And It Leads Forward The Birth Of An Earth-worm And The Advent Of Socrates.

The World Is The Expanding Greece And Greece Is The Shrinking World.

One Cannot Resist An Idea Whose Time Has Come.

The Death Agony Of The Barricade Was About To Begin.for, Since The Preceding Evening, The Two Rows Of Houses In The Rue De La Chanvrerie Had Become Two Walls; Ferocious Walls, Doors Closed, Windows Closed, Shutters Closed. A House Is An Escarpment, A Door Is A Refusal, A Facade Is A Wall. This Wall Hears, Sees And Will Not. It Might Open And Save You. No. This Wall Is A Judge. It Gazes At You And Condemns You. What Dismal Things Are Closed Houses.

These Are Dark Radiances. They Have No Suspicion That They Are To Be Pitied. Certainly They Are So. He Who Does Not Weep Does Not See. They Are To Be Admired And Pitied, As One Would Both Pity And Admire A Being At Once Night And Day, Without Eyes Beneath His Lashes But With A Star On His Brow.

Every Idea Must Have A Visible Enfolding.

If It Were (is It Not) Outrageous That Society Should Treat With Such Rigid Precision Those Of Its Members Who Were Most Poorly Endowed In The Distribution Or Wealth That Chance Had Made, And Who Were, Therefore, Most Worthy Of Indulgence.

During A Wise Man's Whole Life, His Destiny Holds His Philosophy In A State Of Siege.

To Learn To Read Is To Light A Fire.

The True Artist Can Only Labor Con Amore.

Love Is Like A Tree: It Grows By Itself, Roots Itself Deeply In Our Being And Continues To Flourish Over A Heart In Ruin. The Inexplicable Fact Is That The Blinder It Is, The More Tenacious It Is. It Is Never Stronger Than When It Is Completely Unreasonable.

Nature, Like A Kind And Smiling Mother, Lends Herself To Our Dreams And Cherishes Our Fancies.

Wonderful Nature Has A Double Meaning, Which Dazzles Great Minds And Blinds Uncultivated Souls. When Man Is Ignorant, When The Desert Is Filled With Visions, The Darkness Of Solitude Is Added To The Darkness Of Intelligence; Hence, In Man, The Possibilities Of Perdition

To Die For Lack Of Love Is Horrible. The Asphyxia Of The Soul.

Every Good Quality Runs Into A Defect; Economy Borders On Avarice, The Generous Are Not Far From The Prodigal, The Brave Man Is Close To The Bully; He Who Is Very Pious Is Slightly Sanctimonious; There Are Just As Many Vices To Virtue As There Are Holes In The Mantle Of Diogenes.

We Are Not Loved By Our Friends For What We Are; Rather, We Are Loved In Spite Of What We Are.

What Matters Deafness Of The Ear, When The Mind Hears? The One True Deafness, The Incurable Deafness, Is That Of The Mind.

Freedom Begins Where It Ends Ignorance.

Many Great Actions Are Committed In Small Struggles.

If I Have Not Been Exposed And Am Not In Any Danger Of Pursuit. But I Have Been Exposed, I Am Pursued - By Myself! That Is A Pursuer That Does Not Readily Let Go.

Nations, Like Stars, Are Entitled To Eclipse. All Is Well, Provided The Light Returns And The Eclipse Does Not Become Endless Night. Dawn And Resurrection Are Synonymous. The Reappearance Of The Light Is The Same As The Survival Of The Soul.

What Was More Needed By This Old Man Who Divided The Leisure Hours Of His Life, Where He Had So Little Leisure, Between Gardening In The Daytime, And Contemplation At Night? Was Not This Narrow Enclosure, With The Sky For A Background, Enough To Enable Him To Adore God In His Most Beautiful As Well As In His Most Sublime Works? Indeed, Is Not That All, And What More Can Be Desired? A Little Garden To Walk, And Immensity To Reflect Upon. At His Feet Something To Cultivate And Gather; Above His Head Something To Study And Meditate Upon: A Few Flowers On The Earth, And All The Stars In The Sky.

For Sight Is Woman-like And Shuns The Old.

He Is The Best Gentleman That Is The Son Of His Own Deserts, And Not The Degenerated Heir Of Another's Virtue.

I Met In The Street A Very Poor Young Man Who Was In Love. His Hat Was Old, His Coat Worn, His Cloak Was Out At The Elbows, The Water Passed Through His Shoes, - And The Stars Through His Soul.

Large, Heavy, Ragged Black Clouds Hung Like Crape Hammocks Beneath The Starry Cope Of The Night. You Would Have Said That They Were The Cobwebs Of The Firmament.

M. Myriel Had To Undergo The Fate Of Every Newcomer In A Little Town, Where There Are Many Mouths Which Talk, And Very Few Heads Which Think.

As The Purse Is Emptied, The Heart Is Filled.

She Was A Lovely Blonde, With Fine Teeth. She Had Gold And Pearls For Her Dowry; But Her Gold Was On Her Head, And Her Pearls Were In Her Mouth.

Those Who Do Not Weep, Do Not See.

Without Vanity, Without Coquetry, Without Curiosity, In A Word, Without The Fall, Woman Would Not Be Woman. Much Of Her Grace Is In Her Frailty.

The Word Is The Verb, And The Verb Is God.

Ecclesiastes Names Thee Almighty, The Maccabees Name Thee Creator, The Epistle To The Ephesians Names Thee Liberty, Baruch Names Thee Immensity, The Psalms Name Thee Wisdom And Truth, John Names Thee Light, The Book Of Kings Names Thee Lord, Exodus Names Thee Providence, Leviticus Sanctity, Esdras Justice, Creation Names Thee God, Man Names Thee Father; But Solomon Names Thee Compassion, Which Is The Most Beautiful Of All Thy Names.

Do Not Ask The Name Of The Person Who Seeks A Bed For The Night. He Who Is Reluctant To Give His Name Is The One Who Most Needs Shelter.

Animals Are Nothing But The Portrayal Of Our Virtues And Vices Made Manifest To Our Eyes, The Visible Reflections Of Our Souls.

To Introduce A New Play Only Six Weeks After Another Has Been Banned Is Also A Way To Speak One's Piece To The Government. It Proves That Art And Liberty Can Grow Back In One Night Under The Clumsy Foot Which Crushes Them.

I Am For Religion, Against Religions.

Against Religion

Slowly He Took Out The Clothes In Which, Ten Years Beforem Cosette Had Left Montfermeil; First The Little Dress, Then The Black Scarf, Then The Great Heavy Child's Shoes Cosette Could Still Almost Have Worn, So Small Was Her Foot, Then The Vest Of Very Thich Fustian, Then The Knitted Petticoat, The The Apron With Pockets, Then The Wool Stockings.... Then His Venerable White Head Fell On The Bed, This Old Stoical Heart Broke, His Face Was Swallowed Up, So To Speak, In Cosette's Clothes, And Anybody Who Had Passed Along The Staircase At That Moment Would Have Heard Irrepressible Sobbing.

The Three Great Problems Of This Century; The Degradation Of Man In The Proletariat, The Subjection Of Women Through Hunger, The Atrophy Of The Child By Darkness.

Strange To Say, The Luminous World Is The Invisible World; The Luminous World Is That Which We Do Not See. Our Eyes Of Flesh See Only Night.

Caution Is The Eldest Child Of Wisdom.

The Word Gothic, In The Sense In Which It Is Generally Employed, Is Wholly Unsuitable, But Wholly Consecrated. Hence We Accept It And We Adopt It, Like All The Rest Of The World, To Characterize The Architecture Of The Second Half Of The Middle Ages, Where The Ogive Is The Principle Which Succeeds The Architecture Of The First Period, Of Which The Semi-circle Is The Father.

All The Forces In The World Are Not So Powerful As An Idea Whose Time Has Come.

My Greatness Does Not Extend To This Shelf.

Monastic Incarceration Is Castration.

Whether We Be Italians Or Frenchmen, Misery Concerns Us All. Ever Since History Has Been Written, Ever Since Philosophy Has Meditated, Misery Has Been The Garment Of The Human Race; The Moment Has At Length Arrived For Tearing Off That Rag, And For Replacing, Upon The Naked Limbs Of The Man-people, The Sinister Fragment Of The Past With The Grand Purple Robe Of The Dawn.

There Are Souls Which, Crab-like, Crawl Continually Toward Darkness, Going Back In Life Rather Than Advancing In It, Using What Experience They Have To Increase Their Deformity, Growing Worse Without Ceasing, And Becoming Steeped More And More Thoroughly In An Intensifying Wickedness.

I Had A Dream My Life Would Be Different From This Hell I Am Living, So Different From What It Seemed. Now Life Has Killed The Dream I Dreamed.

Nothing Can Be More Depressing Than To Expose, Naked To The Light Of Thought, The Hideous Growth Of Argot. Indeed It Is Like A Sort Of Repellent Animal Intended To Dwell In Darkness Which Has Been Dragged Out Of Its Cloaca. One Seems To See A Horned And Living Creature Viciously Struggling To Be Restored To The Place Where It Belongs. One Word Is Like A Claw, Another Like A Sightless And Bleeding Eye; And There Are Phrases Which Clutch Like The Pincers Of A Crab. And All Of It Is Alive With The Hideous Vitality Of Things That Have Organized Themselves Amid Disorganization.

Revolutions Spring Not From Accident, But From Necessity. A Revolution Is A Return From The Factitious To The Real. It Takes Place Because It Must.

He Who Is Not Capable Of Enduring Poverty Is Not Capable Of Being Free.

Heaven, On Occasion, Half Opens Its Arms To Us; And That Is The Great Moment.

Dear God! How Beauty Varies In Nature And Art. In A Woman The Flesh Must Be Like Marble; In A Statue The Marble Must Be Like Flesh.

Winter Is On My Head, But Eternal Spring Is In My Heart. The Nearer I Approach The End, The Plainer I Hear Around Me The Immortal Symphonies Of The Worlds Which Invite Me. . . . For Half A Century I Have Been Writing Thoughts In Prose, Verse, History, Drama, Romance, Tradition, Satire, Ode, And Song. I Have Tried Them All, But I Feel I Have Not Said A Thousandth Part Of That Which Is Within Me. When I Go Down To The Grave, I Can Say "i Have Finished My Day's Work," But I Cannot Say "i Have Finished My Life's Work."

The Sadness Which Reigned Everywhere Was But An Excuse For Unfailing Kindness.

There Is One Spectacle Grander Than The Sea, That Is The Sky; There Is One Spectacle Grander Than The Sky, That Is The Interior Of The Soul.

He Never Went Out Without A Book Under His Arm, And He Often Came Back With Two.

My Tastes Are Aristocratic, My Actions Democratic.

Desiring Always To Be In Mourning, He Clothed Himself With Night.

Diamonds Are Found Only In The Dark Bowels Of The Earth; Truths Are Found Only In The Depths Of Thought. It Seemed To Him That After Descending Into Those Depths After Long Groping In The Blackest Of This Darkness, He Had At Last Found One Of These Diamonds, One Of These Truths, And That He Held It In His Hand; And It Blinded Him To Look At It. (pg. 231)

I Like The Laughter That Opens The Lips And The Heart, Shows At The Same Time The Pearls And The Soul.

There Are, As We Know, Powerful And Illustrious Atheists. At Bottom, Led Back To The Truth By Their Very Force, They Are Not Absolutely Sure That They Are Atheists; It Is With Them Only A Question Of Definition, And In Any Case, If They Do Not Believe In God, Being Great Minds, They Prove God.

Need Is A Low Door Which, When We Must By Stern Necessity Pass Through, Forces The Greatest To Bend Down The Most.

A Wretched Woman Is More Unfortunate Than A Wretched Man.

Love Is Like A Tree, It Grows Of Its Own Accord, It Puts Down Deep Roots Into Our Whole Being.

There Shall Be No Slavery Of The Mind.

Tobacco Is The Plant That Converts Thoughts Into Dreams.

Nothing Is So Stifling As Symmetry. Symmetry Is Boredom, The Quintessence Of Mourning. Despair Yawns. There Is Something More Terrible Than A Hell Of Suffering - A Hell Of Boredom.

Be Like The Bird Who, Pausing In Her Flight Awhile On Boughs Too Slight, Feels Them Give Way Beneath Her, And Yet Sings, Knowing She Hath Wings.

Who Then Can Calculate The Path Of The Molecule? How Do We Know That The Creations Of Worlds Are Not Determined By The Fall Of Grains Of Sand?

There Are Fathers Who Do Not Love Their Children; There Is No Grandfather Who Does Not Adore His Grandson.

I Tried. But I Feel That I Haven't Given Utterance To The Thousandth Part Of What Lies Within Me. When I Go To The Grave I Can Say As Others Have Said, "i Have Finished My Day's Work." But I Cannot Say, "i Have Finished My Life." My Day's Work Will Begin Again The Next Morning. The Tomb Is Not A Blind Alley; It Is A Thoroughfare. It Closes On The Twilight, But Opens On The Dawn.

For True Poetry, Complete Poetry, Consists In The Harmony Of Contraries. Hence, It Is Time To Say Aloud--and It Is Here Above Allthat Exceptions Prove The Rule--that Everything That Exists In Nature Exists In Art.

Son, Brother, Father, Lover, Friend. There Is Room In The Heart For All The Affections, As There Is Room In Heaven For All The Stars.

If God Had Intended That Man Should Go Backward, He Would Have Given Him Eyes In The Back Of His Head.

While Contemplating The Bride, And Eyeing The Cake Of Soap, He Muttered Between His Teeth: 'tuesday. It Was Not Tuesday. Was It Tuesday? Perhaps It Was Tuesday. Yes, It Was Tuesday.' No One Has Ever Discovered To What This Monologue Referred. Yes, Perchance, This Monologue Had Some Connection With The Last Occasion On Which He Had Dined, Three Days Before, For It Was Now Friday.

You Ask Me What Forces Me To Speak? A Strange Thing; My Conscience.

Emotion Is Always New.

Promise To Give Me A Kiss On My Brow When I Am Dead. --i Shall Feel It." She Dropped Her Head Again On Marius' Knees, And Her Eyelids Closed. He Thought The Poor Soul Had Departed. Eponine Remained Motionless. All At Once, At The Very Moment When Marius Fancied Her Asleep Forever, She Slowly Opened Her Eyes In Which Appeared The Sombre Profundity Of Death, And Said To Him In A Tone Whose Sweetness Seemed Already To Proceed From Another World:-- "and By The Way, Monsieur Marius, I Believe That I Was A Little Bit In Love With You.

Ma Vie Est Une énigme Dont Ton Nom Est Le Mot. (my Life Is An Enigma, Of Which Your Name Is The Word.)

Slaves Would Be Tyrants Were The Chance Theirs.

God Made Only Water, But Man Made Wine.

Art Moves. Hence Its Civilizing Power.

And, Moreover, When It Happens That Both Are Sincere And Good, Nothing Will Mix And Amalgamate More Easily Than An Old Priest And An Old Soldier. In Reality, They Are The Same Kind Of Man. One Has Devoted Himself To Country Upon Earth, The Other To His Country In Heaven; There Is No Other Difference.

Success Is A Very Hideous Thing. Its False Resemblance To Merit Deceives Men.

We Need Those Who Pray Constantly To Compensate For Those Who Do Not Pray At All.

It Is In The Name Of Moses That Bellarmin Thunderstrikes Galileo; And This Great Vulgarizer Of The Great Seeker Copernicus, Galileo, The Old Man Of Truth, The Magian Of The Heavens, Was Reduced To Repeating On His Knees Word For Word After The Inquisitor This Formula Of Shame: "corde Sincera Et Fide Non Ficta Abjuro Maledico Et Detestor Supradictos Errores Et Hereses." Falsehood Put An Ass's Hood On Science.

I Will Be Chateaubriand Or Nothing.

A Man Is Not Idle Because He Is Absorbed In Thought. There Is A Visible Labor And There Is An Invisible Labor.

Whatever Causes Night In Our Souls May Leave Stars. Cimourdain Was Full Of Virtues And Truth, But They Shine Out Of A Dark Background.

History Has Its Truth; And So Has Legend Hers.

When Two Souls Have Finally Found Each Other, There Is Established Between Them A Union Which Begins On Earth And Continues Forever In Heaven.

Hypocrisy Is Nothing, In Fact, But A Horrible Hopefulness.

Mothers Arms Are Made Of Tenderness, And Sweet Sleep Blesses The Child Who Lies Therein.

They Say Love Is Blindness Of Heart; I Say Not To Love Is Blindness.

...human Thought Has No Limit. At Its Risk And Peril, It Analyzes And Dissects Its Own Fascination. We Could Almost Say That, By A Sort Of Splendid Reaction, It Fascinates Nature; The Mysterious World Surrounding Us Returns What It Receives; It Is Likely That Contemplators Are Contemplated.

Go To Sleep In Peace. God Is Awake.

A Day Will Come When All Nations On Our Continent Will Form A European Brotherhood... A Day Will Come When We Shall See... The United States Of America And The United States Of Europe Face To Face, Reaching Out For Each Other Across The Seas.

The Soul Has Greater Need Of The Ideal Than Of The Real

To Be Wicked Does Not Insure Prosperity - For The Inn Did Not Succeed Well.

I'm Not In The World To Guard My Own Life, But To Guard Souls

To Know, To Think, To Dream. That Is Everything.

It Seemed To Be A Necessary Ritual That He Should Prepare Himself For Sleep By Meditating Under The Solemnity Of The Night Sky... A Mysterious Transaction Between The Infinity Of The Soul And The Infinity Of The Universe.

He Left Her. She Was Dissatisfied With Him. He Had Preferred To Incur Her Anger Rather Than Cause Her Pain. He Had Kept All The Pain For Himself.

If Suffer We Must, Let's Suffer On The Heights.

Religion, Society, And Nature--these Are The Three Struggles Of Man.

The Wicked Envy And Hate; It Is Their Way Of Admiring.

Despotism Is A Long Crime.

To Pay Compliments To The One We Love Is The First Method Of Caressing, A Demi-audacity Venturing. A Compliment Is Something Like A Kiss Through A Veil.

In 1815, M. Charles Francois-bienvenu Myriel Was Bishop Of D-----. He Was A Man Of Seventy-five, And Had Occupied The Bishopric Of D----- Since 1806. Although It In No Manner Concerns, Even In The Remotest Degree, What We Have To Relate, It May Not Be Useless, Were It Only For The Sake Of Exactness In All Things, To Notice Here The Reports And Gossip Which Had Arisen On His Account From The Time Of His Arrival In The Diocese.

The Guilty One Is Not He Who Commits The Sin, But He Who Causes The Darkness.

Let The One Fight For His Flag, And The Other For His Ideal, And Let Them Both Imagine That They Are Fighting For The Country; The Strife Will Be Colossal.

There Is One Spectacle Grander Than The Sea, That Is The Sky.

My Misfortune Is That I Still Resemble A Man Too Much. I Should Liked To Be Wholly A Beast Like That Goat. - Quasimodo

The Most Terrible Of Motives And The Most Unanswerable Of Responses: Because.

France Lost A Great Novel Last Night.

Symmetry Is Ennui, And Ennui Is The Very Essence Of Grief And Melancholy. Despair Yawns.

What Dangers You Run, O Noble Souls! Often, You Give Your Heart, But We Take Only Your Body. Your Heart Is Left To You And You Look At It In The Shadows And Shudder.

The Great Acts Of Love Are Done By Those Who Are Habitually Performing Small Acts Of Kindness.

Sleep Comes More Easily Than It Returns.

Primitive Times Are Lyrical, Ancient Times Epical, Modern Times Dramatic. The Ode Sings Of Eternity, The Epic Imparts Solemnity Tohistory, The Drama Depicts Life. The Characteristic Of The First Poetry Is Ingeniousness, Of The Second, Simplicity, Of The Third, Truth.

Short As Life Is, We Make It Still Shorter By The Careless Waste Of Time.

You Preserve Your Shame But You Kill Your Glory.

The Tomb Is Not A Blind Alley: It Is A Thoroughfare. It Closes On The Twilight. It Opens On The Dawn.

Virtue Has A Veil, Vice A Mask.

We Are Reassured Almost As Foolishly As We Are Alarmed; Human Nature Is So Constituted.

A Wedding Is Not House-keeping.

Progress Is The Stride Of God.

The Most Beautiful Of Altars, He Said, Is The Soul Of An Unhappy Creature Consoled And Thankfing God.

True Thinkers Are Characterized By A Blending Of Clearness And Mystery.

At The Moment When Her Eyes Closed, When All Feeling Vanished In Her, She Thought That She Felt A Touch Of Fire Imprinted On Her Lips, A Kiss More Burning Than The Red-hot Iron Of The Executioner.

Monsieur' To A Convict Is A Glass Of Water To A Man Dying Of Thirst At Sea; Ignominy Thirsts For Respect.

To Lie A Little Is Not Possible: He Who Lies, Lies The Whole Lie.

Table Talk And Lovers' Talk Equally Elude The Grasp; Lovers' Talk Is Clouds, Table Talk Is Smoke.

France Is Great Because She Is France.

A Queen, Devoid Of Beauty Is Not Queen; She Needs The Royalty Of Beauty's Mien.

Whenever We Encounter The Infinite In Man, However Imperfectly Understood, We Treat It With Respect. Whether In The Synagogue, The Mosque, The Pagoda, Or The Wigwam, There Is A Hideous Aspect Which We Execrate And A Sublime Aspect Which We Venerate. So Great A Subject For Spiritual Contemplation, Such Measureless Dreaming - The Echo Of God On The Human Wall!

This Child Whom We Love, Brings Daylight Into Our Soul.

As We Have Explained, In First Love The Soul Is Taken Long Before The Body; Later The Body Is Taken Long Before The Soul; Sometimes The Soul Is Not Taken At All.

I'm Religiously Opposed To Religion.

Knowledge Is A Weight Added To Conscience.

The Malicious Have A Dark Happiness.

At A Certain Depth Of Distress, The Poor, In Their Stupor, Groan No Longer Over Evil, And Are No Longer Thankful For Good.

Science Says The First Word On Everything, And The Last Word On Nothing.

Whom Man Kills, Him God Restoreth To Life.

From A Political Point Of View, There Is But One Principle, The Sovereignty Of Man Over Himself. This Sovereignty Of Myself Over Myself Is Called Liberty

To Know How To Distinguish The Agitation Arising From Covetousness, From The Agitation Arising From Principles, To Fight The One And Aid The Other, In This Lies The Genius And The Power Of Great Revolutionary Leaders.

Revolutionary Leaders

The Delight We Inspire In Others Has This Enchanting Peculiarity That, Far From Being Diminished Like Every Other Reflection, It Returns To Us More Radiant Than Ever.

Where The Telescope Ends The Microscope Begins, And Which Has The Wider Vision?

If I Speak, I Am Condemned. If I Stay Silent, I Am Damned!

If We Must Suffer, Let Us Suffer Nobly.

When Liberty Returns, I Will Return.

The Pupil Dilates In Darkness And In The End Finds Light, Just As The Soul Dilates In Misfortune And In The End Finds God.

A Sewer Is A Cynic. It Tells All.

For, To Make Deserts, God, Who Rules Mankind, Begins With Kings, And Ends The Work By Wind.

Sacrificing The Earth For Paradise Is Giving Up The Substance For The Shadow.

I Didn't Believe It Could Be So Monstrous. It's Wrong To Be So Absorbed In Divine Law As Not To Perceive Human Law. Death Belongs To God Alone. By What Right Do Men Tough That Unknown Thing?

As A Means Of Contrast With The Sublime, The Grotesque Is, In Our View, The Richest Source That Nature Can Offer.

We Are For Religion Against The Religions.

Men Become Accustomed To Poison By Degrees.

Where No Plan Is Laid, Where The Disposal Of Time Is Surrendered Merely To The Chance Of Incident, Chaos Will Soon Reign.

The Man Is Placed Where The Earth Ends, The Woman, Where The Heaven Starts.

The Fact Is That The Beautiful, Humanly Speaking, Is Merely Form Considered In Its Simplest Aspect, In Its Most Perfect Symmetry, In Its Most Entire Harmony With Our Make-up. Thus The Ensemble That It Offers Us Is Always Complete, But Restricted Like Ourselves. What We Call The Ugly, On The Contrary, Is A Detail Of A Great Whole Which Eludes Us, And Which Is In Harmony, Not With Man But With All Creation. That Is Why It Constantly Presents Itself To Us In New But Incomplete Aspects.

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