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What matters deafness of the ear, when the mind hears? The one true deafness, the incurable deafness, is that of the mind.

Victor Hugo

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Victor Hugo
Age: 83 †
Born: 1802
Born: February 26
Died: 1885
Died: May 22
Drawer
Essayist
Illustrator
Librettist
Memoirist
Novelist
Playwright
Poet
Politician
Travel Writer
Writer
Besac
Victor Marie Hugo
Victor-Marie Hugo
Victor Marie
Comte Hugo
Hears
Matters
Ears
True
Matter
Mind
Incurable
Deafness

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Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.
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She worked in order to live, and presently fell in love, also in order to live, for the heart, too, has its hunger.
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All roads are blocked to a philosophy which reduces everything to the word no. To no there is only one answer and that is yes. Nihilism has no substance. There is no such thing as nothingness, and zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing. Man lives more by affirmation than by bread.
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Why worry about what threatens our heads or purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.
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Oh! Everything I loved!
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To be a saint is the exception to be a just person is the rule. Err, stumble, commit sin, but be one of the just.
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Hypocrisy is nothing, in fact, but a horrible hopefulness.
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The heart becomes heroic through passion. It is no longer composed of anything but what is pure it no longer rests upon anything but what is elevated and great.
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He sought...to transform the grief which looks down into the grave by showing it the grief which looks up to the stars.
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Genius: the superhuman in man.
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Each of our passions, even love, has a stomach that must not be overloaded. We must in everything write the word 'finis' in time we must restrain ourselves, when it becomes urgent we must draw the bolt on the appetite, play a fantasia on the violin, then break the strings with our own hand. The Wise man is he who knows when and how to stop.
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Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
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Love is a fault so be it.
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I'd like a drink. I desire to forget life. Life is a hideous invention by somebody I don't know. It doesn't last, and it's good for nothing. You break your neck simply living.
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Crime is redeemed by remorse, but not by a blow of the axe or slipknot. Blood has to be washed by tears but not by blood.
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A phenomenon often seen. A sceptic adhering to a believer that is as simple as the law of the complementary colours. What we lack attracts us. Nobody loves the light like the blind man.
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France lost a great novel last night.
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Peace is the virtue of civilization. War is its crime.
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To introduce a new play only six weeks after another has been banned is also a way to speak one's piece to the government. It proves that art and liberty can grow back in one night under the clumsy foot which crushes them.
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There is a way of meeting error while on the road of truth.
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