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Let us say it now: to be blind and to be loved, is indeed, upon this earth where nothing is complete, one of the most strangely exquisite forms of happiness.

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
Nothing
Complete
Love
Indeed
Blind
Loved
Happiness
Strangely
Upon
Blindness
Form
Exquisite
Earth
Forms

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When, like an Emir of tyrannic power, Sirius appears, and on the horizon black Bids countless stars pursue their mighty track.
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She had had sweet dreams, which possibly arose from the fact that her little bed was very white.
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To put everything in balance is good, to put everything in harmony is better.
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Night and the day, when united, Bring forth the beautiful light.
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There are souls which, crab-like, crawl continually toward darkness, going back in life rather than advancing in it, using what experience they have to increase their deformity, growing worse without ceasing, and becoming steeped more and more thoroughly in an intensifying wickedness.
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The convent, which belongs to the West as it does to the East, to antiquity as it does to the present time, to Buddhism and Muhammadanism as it does to Christianity, is one of the optical devices whereby man gains a glimpse of infinity.
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Yes, the brutalities of progress are called revolutions
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You are adorable, mademoiselle. I study your feet with the microscope and your soul with the telescope.
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Our acts make or mar us, we are the children of our own deeds.
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France lost a great novel last night.
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To meditate is to labour to think is to act.
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There are many lovely women, but no perfect ones.
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Intelligence is the wife, imagination is the mistress, memory is the servant.
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A breath of Paris preserves the soul.
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He who contemplates the depths of Paris is seized with vertigo. Nothing is more fantastic. Nothing is more tragic. Nothing is more sublime.
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To destroy abuses is not enough Habits must also be changed. The windmill has gone, but the wind is still there. ~old man G--- to Monseigneur Bienvenu Myriel
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Genius: the superhuman in man.
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If the infinite had no me, then me would be its limit. It would not be the infinite, therefore it would not be.
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