We say and exclaim within ourselves without breaking silence, in a tumult where everything speaks except our mouths. The realities of the… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
In Shakespeare the birds sing, the bushes are clothed with green, hearts love, souls suffer, the cloud wanders, it is hot, it… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Slowly he took out the clothes in which, ten years beforem Cosette had left Montfermeil; first the little dress, then the black… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Marius and Cosette were in the dark in regard to each other. They did not speak, they did not bow, they were… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
When I speak to you about myself, I am speaking to you about yourself. How is it you don't see that? — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Everything speaks: the flowing airstream and the sailing halycon, the blade of grass, the flower, the bud, the element; did you imagine… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
To introduce a new play only six weeks after another has been banned is also a way to speak one's piece to… — 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
