Victor Hugo Quotes
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Genuflection before the idol or the dollar destroys the muscles which walk and the will that moves.
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Though one believes in nothing, there are moments in life when one accepts the religion of the temple nearest at hand.
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You ask me what forces me to speak? a strange thing; my conscience.
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Dirt has been shrewdly termed "misplaced material.
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Music is the vapor of art. It is to poetry what reverie is to thought, what fluid is to solid, what the ocean of clouds is to the ocean of waves.
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France lost a great novel last night.
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You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it.
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In the vast cosmical changes, the universal life comes and goes in unknown quantities, ... sowing an animalcule here, crumbling a star there, oscillating and ... entangling, from the highest to the lowest, all activities in the obscurity of a dizzying mechanism, hanging the flight of an insect upon the movement of the earth... Enormous gearing, whose first motor is the gnat, and whose last wheel is the zodiac.
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A few feet under the ground reigns so profound a silence, and yet so much tumult on the surface!
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What makes night within us may leave stars.
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The hand which moves over the dial moves also among souls.
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Joy is the reflex of terror.
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A saint addicted to excessive self-abnegation is a dangerous associate; he may infect you with poverty, and a stiffening of those joints which are needed for advancement-in a word, with more renunciation than you care for-and so you flee the contagion.
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Seeing so much poverty everywhere makes me think that God is not rich. He gives the appearance of it, but I suspect some financial difficulties.
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I'd rather be hissed at for a good verse, than applauded for a bad one.
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The most beautiful of altars, he said, is the soul of an unhappy creature consoled and thankfing God.
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It is the peculiarity of grief to bring out the childish side of man.
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The paradise of the rich is made out of the hell of the poor.
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...mothers are often fondest of the child which has caused them the greatest pain.
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...Human thought has no limit. At its risk and peril, it analyzes and dissects its own fascination. We could almost say that, by a sort of splendid reaction, it fascinates nature; the mysterious world surrounding us returns what it receives; it is likely that contemplators are contemplated.
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It is God who makes woman beautiful, it is the devil who makes her pretty.
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Our mind is enriched by what we receive, our heart by what we give.
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Science says the first word on everything, and the last word on nothing.
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Anger may be foolish and absurd, and one may be wrongly irritated, but a man never feels outraged unless in some respect he is fundamentally right.