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I had a dream my life would be different from this hell I am living, so different from what it seemed. Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
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
Killed
Seemed
Hell
Living
Dream
Different
Would
Life
Dreamed
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Dirt has been shrewdly termed misplaced material.
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Strong and rare natures are thus created misery, almost always a stepmother, is sometimes a mother privation gives birth to power of soul and mind distress is the nurse of self-respect misfortune is a good breast for great souls.
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Cheerfulness is like money well expended in charity the more we dispense of it, the greater our possession.
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Table talk and Lovers' talk equally elude the grasp Lovers' talk is clouds, table talk is smoke.
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Enthusiasm is the fever of reason.
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A writer is a world trapped in a person.
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If we must suffer, let us suffer nobly.
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The soul in the darkness sins, but the real sinner is he who caused the darkness.
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The drama is complete poetry. The ode and the epic contain it only in germ it contains both of them in a state of high development, and epitomizes both.
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A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.
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What makes night within us may leave stars.
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Kings are for nations in their swaddling-clothes: France has attained her majority.
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Symmetry is tedious, and tedium is the very basis of mourning. Despair yawns.
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Marius was of the temperament that sinks into grief and remains there Cosette was of the sort that plunges in and comes out again.
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One of the hardest labours of the just man is to expunge from his soul a malevolence which it is difficult to efface.
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I am in the night. There is a being who has gone away and carried the heavens with her. Oh! to be laid side by side in the same tomb, hand clasped in hand, and from time to time, in the darkness, to caress a finger gently, that would suffice for my eternity.
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They say love is blindness of heart I say not to love is blindness.
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Her soul trembled on her lips like a drop of dew on a flower.
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Curiosity is one of the forms of feminine bravery.
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