Victor Hugo Quotes - Page 2

When the heart is dry the eye is dry.

where the telescope ends the microscope begins, and who can say which has the wider vision?

Sin is a gravitation.

...Nobody knows like a woman how to say things that are both sweet and profound. Sweetness and depth, this is all of woman; this is Heaven.

Yes, the brutalities of progress are called revolutions. When they are over, this is recognised: that the human race has been harshly treated, but that it has advanced.

A library implies an act of faith which generations, still in darkness hid, sign in their night in witness of the dawn."

À qui la faute? (1872)

Science says the first word on everything, and the last word on nothing.

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves - say rather, loved in spite of ourselves.

Be happy without picking flaws.

Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.

Every day has its great grief or its small anxiety. ... One cloud is dispelled, another forms. There is hardly one day in a hundred of real joy and bright sunshine.

That I may carry on what I have begun, that I may do good, that I may be one day a grand and encouraging example that it may be said that there was finally some little happiness resulting from this suffering which I have undergone and this virtue to which I have returned!

It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.

I see black light (his last words)

The guillotine is the ultimate expression of Law, and its name is vengeance; it is not neutral, nor does it allow us to remain neutral.

The pupil dilates in darkness and in the end finds light, just as the soul dilates in misfortune and in the end finds God.

The poor man shuddered, overflowed with an angelic joy; he declared in his transport that this would last through life; he said to himself that he really had not suffered enough to deserve such radiant happiness, and he thanked God, in the depths of his soul, for having permitted that he, a miserable man, should be so loved by this innocent being.

A cannonball travels only two thousand miles an hour; light travels two hundred thousand miles a second. Such is the superiority of Jesus Christ over Napoleon.

There is nothing like a dream to create the future.

The human soul has still greater need of the ideal than of the real. It is by the real that we exist, it is by the ideal that we live.