THIS IS THE SURPRISE.
Suddenly she let fly with this: It's nice here!It was a ghastly dump, but she felt free.
So long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Miserables cannot fail to be of use.
Should he remain in paradise and become a demon? Should he return to hell and become an angel?
She worked to live; then, also to live, for the heart too has its hunger, she loved.
She went back down to the garden, feeling like a queen, hearing the birds sing—this was in winter—seeing the sky all golden, the sun in the trees, flowers among the shrubs, bewildered, wild, giddy wit...
She was satisfied after the manner of that Arab woman, who, having received a box on the ear from her husband, went to complain to her father, and cried for vengeance, saying: Father, you owe my husba...
She was sad with an obscure sadness of which she had not the secret herself. There was in her whole person the stupor of a life ended but never commenced.
She took recourse to the expedient of constantly terrified children. She lied.
She gave anyone who saw her a sensation of April and of dawn. There was dew in her eyes. Cosette was a condensation of auroral light in womanly form.
Revolution
Revolutionists are accused of sowing fear abroad. Every barricade seems a crime. Their theories are incriminated, their aim suspected, their ulterior motive is feared, their conscience denounced. They...
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
Penetrate, at certain hours, past the livid face of a human being who is engaged in reflection, and look behind, gaze into that soul, gaze into that obscurity. There, beneath that external silence, ba...
One kiss, and that was everything.
On ne se connaît pas tant qu'on n'a pas bu ensemble.
Oh! would that we were lying side by side in the same grave, hand in hand, and from time to time, in the darkness, gently caressing a finger -- that would suffice for my eternity!
Of a disposition at once unsociable and talkative, desiring to see no one, yet wishing to converse with some one, he got out of the difficulty by talking to himself.
Nothing is more charming than the glow of happiness amid squalor. There is a rose-tinted attic in all our lives.
Nothing could be so poignant and so terrible as this face, wherein was displayed all that may be designated as the evil of the good.