Posted in Life, Thoughts


This is one of those times where I have a plan for next week’s post but not this week’s. And I have things I want to do other than staring at a blank blog post trying to figure out what to write. So I’m going to share with you the Les Misérables quotes I’ve been writing down as I’m reading. I’m sure there are more, as I’m only a little over halfway through, but I still have a nice amount. For all Victor Hugo’s tendency to ramble, he also had an ability to say profound things succinctly. Or sometimes just saying things amusingly.


“He whose name is a burden to him needs shelter more than anyone.”

Pain everywhere was an occasion for goodness always.

“This is not my house, it’s the house of Jesus Christ. The door does not ask who enters whether he has a name, but whether he has any pain.”

The moral world offers no greater sight than this: a troubled and overwrought conscience, brought to the brink of some evil deed, gazing upon the sleep of a just man.

Once upon a time, there was a fairy who made meadows and trees just for people in love.

Whether a person sits or stands – fate hangs by threads like these.

What a gravedigger does becomes cheery when done by a child.

The ultimate happiness in life is the conviction that one is loved, loved for oneself – better still, loved in spite of oneself.

There is a spectacle greater than the sea, and that is the sky; there is a spectacle greater than the sky, and that is the human soul.

The good women there claim that it is not rare, at the end of the day, in remote places in the woods, to meet a black man with the look of a carter or a woodcutter, shod in clogs, decked out in breeches and a frock of coarse canvas cloth, who is recognizable in that, instead of a cap or hat, he has two immense horns on his head. This would, indeed, make him recognizable.

Hope in a child who has never known anything but despair is a sweet and sublime thing.

When it comes to those we love, we come up with all kinds of mad things in our concern.

The joy we inspire has this wonderful feature, which is that, far from dimming like any reflection, it comes back to us more radiant.

Anyone who has ever loved knows all the radiant meaning packed into the three letters of that word: Her.

However selfish and bitter we may be, a mysterious respect attends events in which we feel the collaboration of someone working on a higher plane than man.


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