Victor Hugo

Intelligence is the wife, imagination is the mistress, memory is the servant.

Intelligence is the wife, imagination is the mistress, memory is the servant.

My friends, remember this, that there are no weeds, and no worthless men, there are only bad farmers.

My friends, remember this, that there are no weeds, and no worthless men, there are only bad farmers.

The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
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The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her,
Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.

You have suffered greatly, poor mother. Oh! do not lament, you have now the portion of the elect. It is read more

You have suffered greatly, poor mother. Oh! do not lament, you have now the portion of the elect. It is in this way that mortals become angels. It is not their fault; they do not know how to set about it otherwise. This hell from which you have come out is the first step towards Heaven. We must begin by that. -- Jean Valjean --

Like our dawn, merely a sob of light.

Like our dawn, merely a sob of light.