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The women laughed and wept the crowd stamped their feet enthusiastically, for at that moment Quasimodo was really beautiful. He was handsome — this orphan, this foundling, this outcast.

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
Beautiful
Orphan
Women
Handsome
Really
Laughed
Crowd
Crowds
Enthusiastically
Feet
Stamped
Moment
Wept
Moments
Outcast

More quotes by Victor Hugo

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If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.
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To rise from error to truth is rare and beautiful.
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Ah, cried Gavroche, what does this mean? It rains again! ...If this continues, I withdraw my subscription.
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Revolution is the larva of civilization.
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One only needs to see a smile in a white crape bonnet in order to enter the palace of dreams.
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M. Myriel had to undergo the fate of every newcomer in a little town, where there are many mouths which talk, and very few heads which think.
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There is a material advancement we desire it. There is, also, a moral grandeur we hold fast to it.
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To a gargoyle on the ramparts of Notre Dame as Esmeralda rides off with Gringoire Quasimodo says. Why was I not made of stone like thee?
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Love is reducing the universe to one being.
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For, to make deserts, God, who rules mankind, Begins with kings, and ends the work by wind.
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Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face.
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To love beauty is to see light.
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How frightened hypocrisy hastens to defend itself.
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To be wicked does not insure prosperity - for the inn did not succeed well.
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Virtue has a veil, vice a mask.
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Who among us has not sought peace in a song?
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To meditate is to labour to think is to act. Folded arms work, closed hands perform, a gaze fixed on heaven is a toil.
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There are many tongues to talk, and but few heads to think.
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In every cradle decked with rosy wreath Lurk germs of death.
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Go to sleep in peace. God is awake.
Victor Hugo