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Those Who Pray Always Are Necessary To Those Who Never Pray. In Our View, The Whole Question Is In The Amount Of Thought That Is Mingled With Prayer.

-Victor Hugo

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Those Who Pray Always

Victor Hugo

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Those Who Pray Always Are Necessary To Those Who Never Pray. In Our View, The Whole Question Is In The Amount Of Thought That Is Mingled With Prayer.

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His Universal Compassion Was Due Less To Natural Instinct, Than To A Profound Conviction, A Sum Of Thoughts That In The Course Of Living Had Filtered Through To His Heart: For In The Nature Of Man, As In Rock, There May Be Channels Hollowed By The Dropping Of Water, And These Can Never Be Destroyed.

I Am Not In The World To Care For My Life, But For Souls.

The Future Has Many Names: For The Weak, It Means The Unattainable. For The Fearful, It Means The Unknown. For The Courageous, It Means Opportunity.

To Love Is The Half Of To Believe.

A Phenomenon Often Seen. A Sceptic Adhering To A Believer; That Is As Simple As The Law Of The Complementary Colours. What We Lack Attracts Us. Nobody Loves The Light Like The Blind Man.

The Most Powerful Symptom Of Love Is A Tenderness Which Becomes At Times Almost Insupportable.

To Love Or Have Loved Is All-sufficing. We Must Not Ask For More. No Other Pearl Is To Be Found In The Shadowfolds Of Life. To Love Is An Accomplishment.

Joie Est Mon Caractere, C'est La Faute A Voltaire; Misere Est Mon Trousseau C'est La Faute A Rousseau. [joy Is My Character, 'tis The Fault Of Voltaire; Misery Is My Trousseau 'tis The Fault Of Rousseau.] - Gavroche

The Earlier Works Of A Man Of Genius Are Always Preferred To The Newer Ones, In Order To Prove That He Is Going Down Instead Of Up.

The Little People Must Be Sacred To The Big Ones, And It Is From The Rights Of The Weak That The Duty Of The Strong Is Comprised.

In My Old Age There Is A Coming Into Flower. My Body Wanes; My Mind Waxes.

I Would Rather Be The Head Of A Fly Than The Tail Of A Lion.

The Realities Of Life Do Not Allow Themselves To Be Forgotten.

Reality Of Life

There Is Suffering In The Light; In Excess It Burns. Flame Is Hostile To The Wing. To Burn And Yet To Fly, This Is The Miracle Of Genius.

The Omnipotence Of Evil Has Never Resulted In Anything But Fruitless Efforts. Our Thoughts Always Escape From Whoever Tries To Smother Them.

There Is A Way Of Meeting Error While On The Road Of Truth.

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.

Life Is The Flower For Which Love Is The Honey.

Dying Is Nothing. What's Terrible Is Not To Live.

Can Human Nature Ever Be Wholly And Radically Transformed? Can The Man Whom God Made Good Be Made Wicked By Man? Can The Soul Be Reshaped In Its Entirety By Destiny And Made Evil Because Destiny Is Evil? Can The Heart Become Misshapen And Afflicted With Ugly, Incurable Deformities Under Disproportionate Misfortune, Like A Spinal Column Bent Beneath A Too Low Roof?

I Was Dying When You Came.

Friendship Exists Outside Our Modern Economy Of Scarcity... It's Not About Apportioning Vanishing Resources Of Time And Energy. Friendship Is A Blessed Relic Of The Ancient Economy Of The Gift, And The Time Freely Given To People Dear To You Actually Creates Magical Abundance.

There Is Always More Misery Among The Lower Classes Than There Is Humanity In The Higher.

The Beginning As Well As The End Of All His Thoughts Was Hatred Of Human Law, That Hatred Which, If It Be Not Checked In Its Growth By Some Providential Event, Becomes, In A Certain Time, Hatred Of Society, Then Hatred Of The Human Race, And Then Hatred Of Creation, And Reveals Itself By A Vague And Incessant Desire To Injure Some Living Being, It Matters Not Who.

The Jostling Of Young Minds Against Each Other Has This Wonderful Attribute, That One Can Never Foresee The Spark, Nor Predict The Flash. What Will Spring Up In A Moment? Nobody Knows.

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

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

God Made Only Water, But Man Made Wine.

I Think, Therefore I Doubt.

Indigestion Is Charged By God With Enforcing Morality On The Stomach.

The Wise Man Is He Who Knows When And How To Stop

A Republic May Be Called The Climate Of Civilization.

Sometimes He Used A Spade In His Garden, And Sometimes He Read And Wrote. He Had But One Name For These Two Kinds Of Labor; He Called Them Gardening. ‘the Spirit Is A Garden,’ Said He

The Guillotine Is The Ultimate Expression Of Law, And Its Name Is Vengeance; It Is Not Neutral, Nor Does It Allow Us To Remain Neutral.

To Be Perfectly Happy It Does Not Suffice To Possess Happiness, It Is Necessary To Have Deserved It.

The Memory Of An Absent Person Shines In The Deepest Recesses Of The Heart, Shining The More Brightly The More Wholly Its Object Has Vanished: A Light On The Horizon Of The Despairing, Darkened Spirit; A Star Gleaming In Our Inward Night.

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

I Am In The Night. There Is A Being Who Has Gone Away And Carried The Heavens With Her. Oh! To Be Laid Side By Side In The Same Tomb, Hand Clasped In Hand, And From Time To Time, In The Darkness, To Caress A Finger Gently, That Would Suffice For My Eternity.

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

There Is No Vacuum In The Human Heart. Certain Demolitions Take Place, And It Is Well That They Do, But On Condition That They Are Followed By Reconstructions.

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

Those Who Every Morning Plan The Transactions Of The Day And Follow Out That Plan Carry A Thread That Will Guide Them Through The Labyrinth Of The Most Busy Life. The Orderly Arrangement Of Their Time Is Like A Ray Of Light Which Darts Itself Through All Their Occupations. But Where No Plan Is Laid, Where The Disposal Of Time Is Surrendered Merely To The Chance Of Incidents, Chaos Will Soon Reign.

So Long As Ignorance And Poverty Exist On Earth, Books Of The Nature Of Les Miserables Cannot Fail To Be Of Use.

Let Us Say It Now: To Be Blind And To Be Loved, Is Indeed, Upon This Earth Where Nothing Is Complete, One Of The Most Strangely Exquisite Forms Of Happiness.

A Library Implies An Act Of Faith.

We Should Judge A Man Much More Surely From What He Dreams Than From What He Thinks.

We Are On The Side Of Religion As Opposed To Religions, And We Are Among Those Who Believe In The Wretched Inadequacy Of Sermons And The Sublimity Of Prayer.

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

What Makes Night Within Us May Leave Stars.

He Who Is Not Master Of His Own Thoughts Is Not Accountable For His Own Deeds.

Man Does Not Understand Nor Accept Immortality Except On Condition Of Self-remembrance.

One Is Not Idle Because One Is Absorbed. There Is Both Visible And Invisible Labor. To Contemplate Is To Toil, To Think Is To Do. The Crossed Arms Work, The Clasped Hands Act. The Eyes Upturned To Heaven Are An Act Of Creation.

Smallness In A Great Man Seems Smaller By Its Disproportion With All The Rest.

When, Like An Emir Of Tyrannic Power, Sirius Appears, And On The Horizon Black Bids Countless Stars Pursue Their Mighty Track.

Ideas Can No More Flow Backward Than Can A River.

God Has Set His Intentions In The Flowers, In The Dawn, In The Spring, It Is His Will That We Should Love.

Symmetry Is Tedious, And Tedium Is The Very Basis Of Mourning. Despair Yawns.

Nothing Is Really Small; Whoever Is Open To The Deep Penetration Of Nature Knows This.

Not Ill? No Truly, I Am Young, Healthful, And Strong; The Blood Flows Freely In My Veins; My Limbs Obey My Will; I Am Robust In Mind And Body, Constituted For A Long Life. Yes, All This Is True; And Yet, Nevertheless, I Have An Illness, A Fatal Illness,-an Illness Given By The Hand Of Man!

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

So Your Desire Is To Do Nothing? Well, You Shall Not Have A Week, A Day, An Hour, Free From Oppression. You Shall Not Be Able To Lift Anything Without Agony. Every Passing Minute Will Make Your Muscles Crack. What Is Feather To Others Will Be A Rock To You. The Simplest Things Will Become Difficult. Life Will Become Monstrous About You. To Come, To Go, To Breathe, Will Be So Many Terrible Tasks For You. Your Lungs Will Feel Like A Hundred-pound Weight.

We Would Be Ashamed Of Our Best Behavior If The People Knew The Motives Of Our Behaving So.

Joy's Smile Is Much Closer To Tears Than Laughter.

The English Took The Eagle And Austrians The Eaglet. [fr., L'angleterre Prit L'aigle, Et L'autriche L'aiglon.]

Despots Play Their Part In The Works Of Thinkers. Fettered Words Are Terrible Words. The Writer Doubles And Trebles The Power Of His Writing When A Ruler Imposes Silence On The People. Something Emerges From That Enforced Silence, A Mysterious Fullness Which Filters Through And Becomes Steely In The Thought.

. . .where There Is No More Hope, Song Remains.

Every Day Has Its Great Grief Or Its Small Anxiety. ... One Cloud Is Dispelled, Another Forms. There Is Hardly One Day In A Hundred Of Real Joy And Bright Sunshine.

Out Milky Way Is The Dwelling; The Nebulae Are The City.

Prayer Is An August Avowal Of Ignorance.

The Straight Line, A Respectable Optical Illusion Which Ruins Many A Man.

Optical Illusions

Good Actions Are The Invisible Hinges On The Doors Of Heaven.

Sire, You Are Looking At A Plain Man, And I Am Looking At A Great Man. Each Of Us May Benefit.

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

Don't Educate Your Children To Be Rich. Educate Them To Be Happy, So They Know The Value Of Things, Not The Price.

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

It Is The End. But Of What? The End Of France? No. The End Of Kings? Yes.

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

These Two Beings, Who Had Loved Each Other So Exclusively, And With So Touching A Love, And Who Had Lived So Long For Each Other, Were Now Suffering Beside One Another And Through One Another; Without Speaking Of It, Without Harsh Feeling, And Smiling All The While.

And The Dream That Our Mind Had Sketched In Haste Shall Others Continue, But Never Complete. For None Upon Earth Can Achieve His Scheme; The Best As The Worst Are Futile Here: We Wake At The Self-same Point Of The Dream, All Is Here Begun, And Finished Elsewhere.

Press On! A Better Fate Awaits Thee.

Beauty Is As Useful As The Useful. More So, Perhaps. (le Beau Est Aussi Utile Que L'utile. Plus Peut-etre.)

Success Is An Ugly Thing. Men Are Deceived By Its False Resemblances To Merit.... They Confound The Brilliance Of The Firmament With The Star-shaped Footprints Of A Duck In The Mud.

Promise To Give Me A Kiss On My Brow When I Am Dead.--i Shall Feel It.

Proverty And Wealth Are Comparative Sins.

A Mother's Arms Are Made Of Tenderness And Children Sleep Soundly In Them.

Mother Daughter

Monastic Incarceration Is Castration.

But Secondly You Say 'society Must Exact Vengeance, And Society Must Punish'. Wrong On Both Counts. Vengeance Comes From The Individual And Punishment From God.

A Library Implies An Act Of Faith Which Generations, Still In Darkness Hid, Sign In Their Night In Witness Of The Dawn.

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

The Brutalities Of Progress Are Called Revolutions. When They Are Over We Realize This: That The Human Race Has Been Roughly Handled, But That It Has Advanced.

Well, For Us, In History Where Goodness Is A Rare Pearl, He Who Was Good Almost Takes Precedence Over He Who Was Great.

We Do Not Comprehend Everything, But We Insult Nothing.

Be Happy Without Picking Flaws.

In Winter There Is No Heat, No Light, No Noon, Evening Touches Morning, There Is Fog, And Mist, The Window Is Frosted, And You Cannot See Clearly. The Sky Is But The Mouth Of A Cave. The Whole Day Is The Cave.... Frightful Season! Winter Changes Into Stone The Water Of Heaven And The Heart Of Man.

The Nearer I Approach The End, The Plainer I Hear Around Me The Immortal Symphonies Of The Worlds Which Invite Me. It Is Marvelous, Yet Simple.

Progress Is The Life-style Of Man.

Habit Is The Nursery Of Errors.

Style Is The Substance Of The Subject Called Unceasingly To The Surface.

Popularity? It's Glory's Small Change.

Is It Not A Thing Divine To Have A Smile Which, None Know How, Has The Power To Lighten The Weight Of That Enormous Chain Which All The Living In Common Drag Behind Them?

I Am An Intelligent River Which Has Reflected Successively All The Banks Before Which It Has Flowed By Meditating Only On The Images Offered By Those Changing Shores.

To Divinise Is Human, To Humanise Is Divine.

Woman, Nude, Is The Blue Sky. Clouds And Garments Are An Obstacle To Contemplation. Beauty And Infinity Would Be Gazed Upon Unveiled.

He Was Fond Of Books, For They Are Cool And Sure Friends

There Is One Thing Stronger Than All The Armies In The World, And That Is An Idea Whose Time As Come.

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

Mirrors, Those Revealers Of The Truth, Are Hated; That Does Not Prevent Them From Being Of Use.

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.

Vengeance Comes From The Individual And Punishment From God.

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.

It Is Man's Consolation That The Future Is To Be A Sunrise Instead Of A Sunset.

If He Had Had All Peru In His Pocket, He Would Certainly Have Given It To This Dancer; But Gringoire Had Not Peru In His Pocket; And Besides, America Was Not Yet Discovered. (p. 66)

Love At First Sight

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.

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

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.

If You Are Stone, Be Magnetic; If A Plant, Be Sensitive; But If You Are Human Be Love.

Revery, Which Is Thought In Its Nebulous State, Borders Closely Upon The Land Of Sleep, By Which It Is Bounded As By A Natural Frontier.

Sorrow Is A Fruit. God Does Not Make It Grow On Limbs Too Weak To Bear It.

What Is History? An Echo Of The Past In The Future; A Reflex From The Future On The Past.

God Is Behind Everything, But Everything Hides God.

...but Listen, There Will Be More Joy In Heaven Over The Tears Of A Repentant Sinner Than Over The White Robes Of A Hundred Just Men.

From The Oyster To The Eagle, From The Swine To The Tiger, All Animals Are To Be Found In Men And Each Of Them Exists In Some Man, Sometimes Several At The Time. Animals Are Nothing But The Portrayal Of Our Virtues And Vices Made Manifest To Our Eyes, The Visible Reflections Of Our Souls. God Displays Them To Us To Give Us Food For Thought.

You Can Give Without Loving, But You Can Never Love Without Giving. The Great Acts Of Love Are Done By Those Who Are Habitually Performing Small Acts Of Kindness. We Pardon To The Extent That We Love. Love Is Knowing That Even When You Are Alone, You Will Never Be Lonely Again. & Great Happiness Of Life Is The Conviction That We Are Loved. Loved For Ourselves. & Even Loved In Spite Of Ourselves.

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

Man's Greatest Actions Are Performed In Minor Struggles. Life, Misfortune, Isolation, Abandonment And Poverty Are Battlefields Which Have Their Heroes - Obscure Heroes Who Are At Times Greater Than Illustrious Heroes.

To Commit The Least Possible Sin Is The Law For Man. To Live Without Sin Is The Dream Of An Angel. Everything Terrestrial Is Subject To Sin. Sin Is A Gravitation.

By Putting Forward The Hands Of The Clock You Shall Not Advance The Hour.

An Intelligent Hell Would Be Better Than A Stupid Paradise.

The Beautiful Is As Useful As The Useful." He Added After A Moment’s Silence, "perhaps More So.

Life Is A Theatre Set In Which There Are But Few Practicable Entrances.

There Is A Material Advancement; We Desire It. There Is, Also, A Moral Grandeur; We Hold Fast To It.

Waterloo Is A Battle Of The First Rank Won By A Captain Of The Second

Intelligence Is The Wife, Imagination Is The Mistress, Memory Is The Servant.

Every Body Drags Its Shadow, And Every Mind Its Doubt.

Hell Is An Outrage On Humanity. When You Tell Me That Your Deity Made You In His Image, I Reply That He Must Have Been Very Ugly.

A Criminal Remains A Criminal Whether He Uses A Convict's Suit Or A Monarch's Crown.

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

That Men Saw His Mask, But The Bishop Saw His Face. That Men Saw His Life, But The Bishop Saw His Conscience.

It Is God Who Makes Woman Beautiful, It Is The Devil Who Makes Her Pretty.

Profound Hearts, Wise Minds, Take Life As God Makes It; It Is A Long Trial, And Unintelligible Preparation For The Unknown Destiny.

Houses Are Like The Human Beings That Inhabit Them.

When You Get An Idea Into Your Head You Find It In Everything.

The Supreme Ordeal, Let Us Say Rather, The Only Ordeal, Is The Loss Of The Beloved Being.

Fame Must Have Enemies, As Light Must Have Gnats.

The Saints Were His Friends, And Blessed Him; The Monsters Were His Friends, And Guarded Him.

It Is An Unpleasant Thing To Go To Bed Without Supper, It Is A Still Less Pleasant Thing Not To Sup And Not To Know Where One Is To Sleep.

Thought Is The Labor Of The Intellect, Reverie Is Its Pleasure.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

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.

He Who Opens A School Door, Closes A Prison.

Thought Is The Work Of The Intellect, Reverie Is Its Self-indulgence. To Substitute Day-dreaming For Thought Is To Confuse A Poison With A Source Of Nourishment.

Who Can Be Sure That Jean Valjean Had Not Been On The Verge Of Losing Heart And Giving Up The Struggle? In Loving He Recovered His Strength. But The Truth Is That He Was No Less Vulnerable Than Cosette. He Protected Her And She Sustained Him. Thanks To Him She Could Go Forward Into Life, And Thanks To Her He Could Continue Virtous. He Was The Child's Support And She His Mainstay. Sublime, Unfathomable Marvel Of The Balance Of Destiny!

Emotion Is Always New And The Word Has Always Served; Therein Lies The Difficulty Of Expressing Emotion.

The Hand Which Moves Over The Dial Moves Also Among Souls.

Toleration Is The Best Religion.

He Caught Her, She Fell, He Caught Her In His Arms, He Held Her Tightly Unconscious Of What He Was Doing. He Held Her Up, Though Tottering Himself. He Felt As If His Head Were Filled With Smoke; Flashes Of Light Slipped Through His Eyelids; His Thoughts Vanished; It Seemed To Him That He Was Performing A Religious Act, And That He Was Committing A Profanation. Moreover, He Did Not Feel One Passionate Desire For This Ravishing Woman, Whose Form He Felt Against His Heart. He Was Lost In Love.

A War Between Europeans Is A Civil War.

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

Die, Very Good, But Do Not Make Others Die. Suicides Like The One Which Is About To Take Place Here Are Sublime, But Suicide Is Restricted, And Does Not Allow Of Extension; And So Soon As It Affects Your Neighbors, Suicide Becomes Murder.

Genuflection Before The Idol Or The Dollar Destroys The Muscles Which Walk And The Will That Moves.

What Happened Between Those Two Beings? Nothing. They Were Adoring One Another.

When Liberty Returns, I Will Return.

To Rise From Error To Truth Is Rare And Beautiful.

He Did Not Study God; He Was Dazzled By Him.

Jesus Wept; Voltaire Smiled. From That Divine Tear And From That Human Smile Is Derived The Grace Of Present Civilization.

The Sewer Is The Conscience Of The City.

He Sought...to Transform The Grief Which Looks Down Into The Grave By Showing It The Grief Which Looks Up To The Stars.

Wide Horizons Lead The Soul To Broad Ideas; Circumscribed Horizons Engender Narrow Ideas; This Sometimes Condemns Great Hearts To Become Small Minded.broad Ideas Hated By Narrow Ideas,-this Is The Very Struggle Of Progress.

Superstitions, Bigotries, Hypocrisies, Prejudices, These Phantoms, Phantoms Though They Be, Cling To Life; They Have Teeth And Nails In Their Shadowy Substance, And We Must Grapple With Them Individually And Make War On Them Without Truce; For It Is One Of Humanity's Inevitabilities To Be Condemned To Eternal Struggle With Phantoms.

Each Of Our Passions, Even Love, Has A Stomach That Must Not Be Overloaded. We Must In Everything Write The Word 'finis' In Time; We Must Restrain Ourselves, When It Becomes Urgent; We Must Draw The Bolt On The Appetite, Play A Fantasia On The Violin, Then Break The Strings With Our Own Hand. The Wise Man Is He Who Knows When And How To Stop.

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

Not Seeing People Allows You To Think Of Them As Perfect In All Kinds Of Ways.

Everything Bows To Success, Even Grammar.

A Stand Can Be Made Against Invasion By An Army; No Stand Can Be Made Against Invasion By An Idea.

You Have Enemies? Why, It Is The Story Of Every Man Who Has Done A Great Deed Or Created A New Idea.

Should We Continue To Look Upwards? Is The Light We Can See In The Sky One Of Those Which Will Presently Be Extinguished? The Ideal Is Terrifying To Behold... Brilliant But Threatened On All Sides By The Dark Forces That Surround It: Nevertheless, No More In Danger Than A Star In The Jaws Of The Clouds.

A Joyous Little Creature, So Beautiful, It Was As If A Gate Of Heaven Opened As She Came In.

If She Gives Me All Her Time It Is Because I Have All Her Heart.

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

Tobacco Is The Plant That Converts Thoughts Into Dreams.

Separated Lovers Cheat Absence By A Thousand Fancies Which Have Their Own Reality. They Are Prevented From Seeing One Another And They Cannot Write; Nevertheless They Find Countless Mysterious Ways Of Corresponding, By Sending Each Other The Song Of Birds, The Scent Of Flowers, The Laughter Of Children.

Stupidity Talks, Vanity Acts.

There Is Nothing Like A Dream To Create The Future.

Babylon Violated Diminishes Alexander; Rome Enslaved Diminishes Caesar; Massacred Jerusalem Diminishes Titus. Tyranny Follows The Tyrant. Woe To The Man Who Leaves Behind A Shadow That Bears His Form.

...it All Seemed To Him To Have Disappeared As If Behind A Curtain At A Theater. There Are Such Curtains That Drop In Life. God Is Moving On To The Next Act.

There Is No More Sovereign Eloquence Than The Truth In Indignation.

There Is Will In The Thought, There Is None In The Dream. The Dream, Which Is Completely Spontaneous, Takes And Keeps, Even In The Gigantic And The Ideal, The Form Of Our Mind. Nothing Springs More Directly And More Sincerely From The Very Bottom Of Our Souls Than Our Unreflected And Indefinite Aspirations Towards The Splendours Of Destiny.

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?

Love, Thine Is The Future. Death, I Use Thee, But I Hate Thee. Citizens, There Shall Be In The Future Neither Darkness Nor Thunderbolts; Neither Ferocious Ignorance Nor Blood For Blood.

A Stout Heart May Be Ruined In Fortune But Not In Spirit.

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.

It Is By Suffering That Human Beings Become Angels.

Sleep Comes More Easily Than It Returns.

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.

Whatever Causes Night In Our Souls May Leave Stars.

Was It Possible That Napoleon Should Win The Battle Of Waterloo? We Answer, No! Why? Because Of Wellington? Because Of Blucher? No! Because Of God! For Bonaparte To Conquer At Waterloo Was Not The Law Of The Nineteenth Century. It Was Time That This Vast Man Should Fall. He Had Been Impeached Before The Infinite! He Had Vexed God! Waterloo Was Not A Battle. It Was The Change Of Front Of The Universe!

Marius And Cosette Did Not Ask Where This Would Lead Them. They Looked At Themselves As Arrived. It Is A Strange Pretension For Men To Ask That Love Should Lead Them Somewhere.

Now, One Cannot Read Nonsense With Impunity.

For Dogs We Kings Should Have Lions, And For Cats, Tigers. The Great Benefits A Crown.

The Animal Is Ignorant Of The Fact That He Knows. The Man Is Aware Of The Fact That He Is Ignorant.

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