Mothers arms are made of tenderness, And sweet sleep blesses the child who lies therein. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
The poetic element lying hidden in most women is the source of their magnetic attraction. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Let us fear ourselves. Prejudices are the real robbers; vices are the real murderers. The great dangers lie within ourselves. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
To know how to distinguish the agitation arising from covetousness, from the agitation arising from principles, to fight the one and aid… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
You say, "Where goest Thou?" I cannot tell, And still go on. But if the way be straight I cannot go amiss:… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Emotion is always new and the word has always served; therein lies the difficulty of expressing emotion. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Excitement is not enjoyment: in calmness lies true pleasure. The most precious wines are sipped, not bolted at a swallow. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
I tried. But I feel that I haven't given utterance to the thousandth part of what lies within me. When I go… — 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
