A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“The child entered the hut. The old man followed him with his eyes, and added, as though speaking to himself: - "I… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“She could become a child again, run and frolic, leave her hat on Valjean’s knees and fill it with bunches of wild… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“He who has seen the misery of man only has seen nothing, he must see the misery of woman; he who has… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Children at once accept joy and happiness with quick familiarity, being themselves naturally all happiness and joy. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
My childhood began, as everybody's childhood begins, with prejudices. Man finds prejudices beside his cradle, puts them from him a little in… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“Mother's arms are made of tenderness, and sweet sleep blesses the child who lies within.” — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
When people look back at their childhood or youth, their wistfulness comes from the memory, not of what their lives had been… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Separated lovers cheat absence by a thousand fancies which have their own reality. They are prevented from seeing one another and they… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“Knowing that she was beautiful, she was thoroughly conscious, though in an indistinct fashion, that she possessed a weapon. Women play with… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“Poor children cannot enter the public gardens; still, one would think that, as children, they had a right to the flowers.” — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
If you look in the eyes of the young, you see flame. If you look in the eyes of the old, you… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
I exist," murmurs someone whose name is Everyone. "I'm young and in love; I am old and I want rest; I work,… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“The doll is one of the most imperious needs and, at the same time, one of the most charming instincts of feminine… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“In fact, he who has only beheld the misery of man has seen nothing; the misery of woman is what he must… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Separated lovers cheat absence by a thousand fancies which have their own reality. They are prevented from seeing one another and they… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“The faults of women, children and servants,' he said, 'and of the weak, the poor and the ignorant, are the faults of… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“He was indulgent to women and to the poor, oppressed by the weight of society. "The faults of women, children, and servants,"… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
A little girl without a doll is almost as unfortunate and quite as impossible as a woman without children. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“There is still a certain grace in a dead festival. It has been happy.” — 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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
“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 Image
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 Image
Great blunders are often made, like large ropes, of a multitude of fibres. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“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 Image
“Blacheville smiles with the self-satisfied smugness of a man whose vanity is tickled” — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“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 Image
