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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.
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
Everything
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More quotes by Victor Hugo
Too much improvisation leaves the mind stupidly void.
Victor Hugo
She might have melted a heart of stone, but nothing can melt a heart of wood.
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Diamonds are to be found only in the darkness of the earth, and truth in the darkness of the mind.
Victor Hugo
The word is the Verb, and the Verb is God.
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Perseverance, secret of all triumphs.
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Heaven, on occasion, half opens its arms to us and that is the great moment.
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People do not read stupidities with impunity.
Victor Hugo
There are no trifles in the human story, no trifling leaves on the tree.
Victor Hugo
There is a secret drawer in every woman's heart.
Victor Hugo
A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.
Victor Hugo
The poetic element lying hidden in most women is the source of their magnetic attraction.
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But alas, if I have not maintained my victory, it is God's fault for not making man and the devil of equal strength.
Victor Hugo
Every good quality runs into a defect economy borders on avarice, the generous are not far from the prodigal, the brave man is close to the bully he who is very pious is slightly sanctimonious there are just as many vices to virtue as there are holes in the mantle of Diogenes.
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A library implies an act of faith which generations, still in darkness hid, sign in their night in witness of the dawn.
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A garden to walk in and immensity to dream in--what more could he ask? A few flowers at his feet and above him the stars.
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Concision in style, precision in thought, decision in life.
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Do you hear the people sing Lost in the valley of the night? It is the music of a people Who are climbing to the light. For the wretched of the earth There is a flame that never dies. Even the darkest night will end And the sun will rise.
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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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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.
Victor Hugo
Our life dreams the Utopia. Our death achieves the Ideal.
Victor Hugo