Victor Hugo Quotes
-
Homère est un des génies qui résolvent ce beau problème de l’art, le plus beau de tous peut-être, la peinture vraie de l’humanité obtenue par le grandissement de l’homme, c’est-à-dire la génération du réel dans l’idéal.
-
Oh! Everything I loved!
-
Love has no middle term; either it destroys, or it saves. All human destiny is this dilemma. This dilemma, destruction or salvation, no fate proposes more inexorably than love. Love is life, if it is not death. Cradle; coffin, too. The same sentiment says yes and no in the human heart. Of all the things God has made, the human heart is the one that sheds most light, and alas! most night.
-
Tobacco is the plant that converts thoughts into dreams.
-
In the domain of art there is no light without heat.
-
Nothing is more true, more real, than the primeval magnetic disturbances that two souls may communicate to one another, through the tiny sparks of a moment's glance.
-
Enthusiasm is the fever of reason.
-
His whole life was now summed up in two words: absolute uncertainty within an impenetrable fog.
-
Every blade has two edges; he who wounds with one wounds himself with the other.
-
Is there not in every human soul a primitive spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world and immortal in the next, which can be developed by goodness, kindled, lit up, and made to radiate, and which evil can never entirely extinguish.
-
Love would never be a promise of a rose garden unless it is showered with light of faith, water of sincerity and air of passion. Sometimes we make love with our eyes. Sometimes we make love with our hands. Sometimes we make love with our bodies. Always we make love with our hearts. If I could reach up and hold a star for every time you've made me smile, the entire evening sky would be in the palm of my hand. To love another person is to see the face of God.
-
Whatever causes night in our souls may leave stars. Cimourdain was full of virtues and truth, but they shine out of a dark background.
-
Joie est mon caractere, C'est la faute a Voltaire; Misere est mon trousseau C'est la faute a Rousseau. [Joy is my character, 'Tis the fault of Voltaire; Misery is my trousseau 'Tis the fault of Rousseau.] - Gavroche
-
Every bird which flies has the thread of the infinite in its claw.
-
There are no trifles in the human story, no trifling leaves on the tree.
-
There shall be no slavery of the mind.
-
If I speak, I am condemned. If I stay silent, I am damned!
-
The heart becomes heroic through passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure; it no longer rests upon anything but what is elevated and great.
-
Every body drags its shadow, and every mind its doubt.
-
Let us study things that are no more. It is necessary to understand them, if only to avoid them.
-
The clouds, - the only birds that never sleep.
-
God put in man thought; society, action; nature, revery.
-
The memory of an absent person shines in the deepest recesses of the heart, shining the more brightly the more wholly its object has vanished: a light on the horizon of the despairing, darkened spirit; a star gleaming in our inward night.
-
If I were Jesus Christ, I would save Judas.