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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.

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
Sin
Persons
Person
Stumble
Exception
Saint
Commit
Rule

More quotes by Victor Hugo

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When grace is joined with wrinkles, it is adorable. There is an unspeakable dawn in happy old age.
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It seemed to be a necessary ritual that he should prepare himself for sleep by meditating under the solemnity of the night sky... a mysterious transaction between the infinity of the soul and the infinity of the universe.
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Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.
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It is not enough to be happy, one must be content.
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Winter changes into stone the water of heaven and the heart of man.
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Every blade has two edges he who wounds with one wounds himself with the other.
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It is sad to tell, but after having tried society, which had caused his misfortune, he tried Providence which created society, and condemned it also.
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Emotion is always new and the word has always served therein lies the difficulty of expressing emotion.
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I was always a lover of soft-winged things.
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There is in every village a torch - the teacher and an extinguisher - the priest.
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When the heart is dry the eye is dry.
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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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Doing nothing is happiness for children and misery for old men.
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Do you hear the people sing? Singing a song of angry men
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How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said.
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The left-handed are precious they take places which are inconvenient for the rest.
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Human intelligence discovered a way of perpetuating itself, one not only more durable and more resistant than architecture, but also simpler and easier. Architecture was dethroned. The stone letters of Orpheus gave way to the lead letters of Gutenburg. The book will kill the edifice.
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I like the laughter that opens the lips and the heart, shows at the same time the pearls and the soul.
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Now, one cannot read nonsense with impunity.
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Does not beauty confer a benefit upon us, even by the simple fact of being beautiful?
Victor Hugo