My day's work will begin again the next morning. The tomb is not a blind alley. — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“This exists. It can be seen. It can be touched. These in pace, these dungeons, these iron hinges, these necklets, that lofty… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
“Death has but few terrors for the crushed and broken spirit; but how heavy and icy is his hand when it grasps… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
Without at all invalidating what we have just said, we believe that a perpetual remembrance of the tomb is proper for the… — Victor Hugo Copy Share Image
The tomb is not a blind alley: it is a thoroughfare. It closes on the twilight. It opens on the dawn. — 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
