Whither will suffering lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have suffered. Whither will enjoyment lead me? To nothingness; but I shall have enjoyed myself.
We have both been talking about you. Cosette loves you so dearly! You must not forget that you have a chamber here, we want nothing more to do with the Rue de l'Homme Armé. We will have no more of it...
To see nothing of a person makes it possible to credit him with all the perfection.
To have lied is to have suffered.
There are no bad herbs or bad men; there are only bad cultivators.
The soul does not give up to despair until it has exhausted all illusions.
The owl goes not into the nest of the lark.
The just man frowns, but never sneers. We understand anger, not malice.
The counterfeits of the past take assumed names, and are fond of calling themselves the future. That eternally returning spector, the past, not infrequently falsifies its passport.
That men saw his mask, but the bishop saw his face. That men saw his life, but the bishop saw his conscience.
Teach those who are ignorant as many things as possible; society is culpable,
Tabahlah saat menghadapi penderitaan besar,Sabarlah saat menghadapi penderitaan kecil,Dan kalau anda sudah melaksanakan dengan giat tugas anda sehari-hari,
Style is the form of the ideal; rhythm is its movement.
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.
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
People weighed down with troubles do not look back; they know only too well that misfortune stalks them.
Oh, you who are! Ecclesiastes calls you the All-powerful; the Maccabees call you the Creator; the Epistle to the Ephesians calls you liberty; Baruch calls you Immensity; the Psalms call you Wisdom and...
Nihilism has no point. There is no such thing as nothingness. Zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing. Man
Nature is pitiless; she never withdraws her flowers, her music, her fragrance, and her sunlight from before human cruelty or suffering.