Victor Hugo Quotes
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Life is the flower for which love is the honey.
Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.
It is not enough to be happy, one must be content.
We do not claim that the portrait we are making is the whole truth, only that it is a resemblance.
They are les misérables - the outcasts, the underdogs. And who is to blame? Is it not the most fallen who have most need of charity?
A faith is a necessity to a man. Woe to him who believes in nothing.
Where no plan is laid where the disposal of time is surrendered merely to the chance of incident chaos will soon reign.
Le ciel était absolument noir, il n'y avait plus d'étoiles, mais évidemment il en voyait une.
Peace is the virtue of civilization. War is its crime.
Let us reflect, if we wish to be brilliant. Too much improvisation empties the mind in a stupid way. Running beer gathers no froth. No haste, gentlemen.
England has two books, the Bible and Shakespeare. England made Shakespeare, but the Bible made England.
Hope is the word which God has written on the brow of every man.
Science says the first word on everything, and the last word on nothing.
Perseverance, secret of all triumphs.
The soul of the just contemplates in sleep a mysterious heaven.
There are fathers who do not love their children there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandson.
To love another person is to see the face of God.
As long as ignorance and misery exist in the world, books like the one you are about to read are, perhaps, not entirely useless
Phoebus de Chateaupers likewise came to a 'tragic end': he married.
There are moments when a rope's end, a pole, the branch of the tree, is life itself, and it is a frightful thing to see a living being lose his hold upon it, and fall like a ripe fruit.
If people did not love one another, I really don't see what use there would be in having any spring.
Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved.
In love there are no friends everywhere where there is a pretty woman hostility is open.
Intelligence is the wife, imagination is the mistress, memory is the servant.
Love is the foolishness of men, and the wisdom of God.
Nature like a kind and smiling mother lends herself to our dreams and cherishes our fancies.
My tastes are aristocratic my actions democratic.
A library implies an act of faith.
Thought is the toil of the intelligence, revery its voluptuousness. To replace thought with revery is to confound a poison with a food.
She had had sweet dreams, which possibly arose from the fact that her little bed was very white.
Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
A library implies an act of faith which generations, still in darkness hid, sign in their night in witness of the dawn." (1872)
Monsieur Bienvenu was simply a man who accepted these mysterious questions...and who had in his soul a deep respect for the mystery which enveloped them.
The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.
The sins of women and children, domestic servants and the weak, the poor and the ignorant, are the sins of the husbands and fathers, the masters, the strong and the rich and the educated.
Yes, the brutalities of progress are called revolutions. When they are done, we recognize one thing: that the human race has been badly manhandled, but that it has moved forward.
Style is the shape the ideal takes, rhythm, its movement.
His ideas assumed a kind of stupefied and mechanical quality which is peculiar to despair.
Monsieur, innocence is its own crown. Innocence has no truck with highness. It is as august in rags as it is draped in the fleur-de-lis.
What greater flood can there be than the flood of ideas? How quickly they submerge all that they set out to destroy, how rapidly do they create terrifying depths?
Be like the bird that passing on her flight awhile on boughs too slight feels them give way beneath her and yet sings knowing that she hath wings.
Genuflection before the idol or the dollar destroys the muscles which walk and the will that moves.
To give thanks in solitude is enough. Thanksgiving has wings and goes where it must go. Your prayer knows much more about it than you do.
He who opens a school door, closes a prison.
The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
Yes, the brutalities of progress are called revolutions. When they are over, this is recognised: that the human race has been harshly treated, but that it has advanced.
He, who every morning plans the transactions of the day, and follows that plan, carries a thread that will guide him through a labyrinth of the most busy life.
A criminal remains a criminal whether he uses a convict's suit or a monarch's crown.
Habit is the nursery of errors.
Not being heard is no reason for silence.