Symmetry is ennui, and ennui is the very essence of grief and melancholy. Despair yawns. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
In saying no to progress, it is not the future which they condemn, but themselves. They give themselves a melancholy disease; they… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“What is more melancholy and more profound than to see a thousand objects for the first and the last time? To travel… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
All that was neither a city, nor a church, nor a river, nor color, nor light, nor shadow: it was reverie. For… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
We shall not attempt to give the reader an idea of that tetrahedron nose-that horse-shoe mouth-that small left eye over-shadowed by a… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
As we have said, robust souls are sometimes almost, but not entirely, overthrown by strokes of misfortune…Despair has steps leading upward. From… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
These Greek capitals, black with age, and quite deeply graven in the stone, with I know not what signs peculiar to Gothic… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“You have no effect on me with your gesture of Hippocrates refusing bric-a-brac from Artaxerxes. I dispense you from quieting me. Anyway,… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“What was he doing during the trip? What was he thinking about? As he had during the morning, he watched the trees… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
He caught her, she fell, he caught her in his arms, he held her tightly unconscious of what he was doing. He held her… — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“First I loved women, then animals, and now I love stones. They're just as amusing as women and animals and they're much less trecherous.” — Victor Hugo Copy Share
Nature is pitiless; she never withdraws her flowers, her music, her fragrance, and her sunlight from before human cruelty or suffering. — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“Have courage for the great sorrows of life, and patience for the small ones. And when you have finished your daily task, go to… — Victor Hugo Copy Share
The peasants of the Asturias believe that in every litter of wolves there is one pup that is killed by the mother for fear… — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“For love is like a tree; it grows of itself; it send its roots deep into our being, and often continues to grow green… — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“Blacheville smiles with the self-satisfied smugness of a man whose vanity is tickled” — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“Loving in ignorance, she loved with all the more passion. She did not know whether it was good or evil, beneficent or dangerous, necessary… — Victor Hugo Copy Share
“When those we love are in question, our prudence invents every sort of madness.” — Victor Hugo Copy Share
