To Love Or Have Loved, That Is

One Of The Hardest Labours Of The Just Man Is To Expunge From His Soul A Malevolence Which It Is Difficult To Efface.

Progress Is The Life-style Of Man.

In Love, Such A Word, Whispered, Is A Mysterious Kiss Of The Soul To The Soul.

To Breathe Paris Is To Preserve One's Soul.

He Was At His Own Request And Through His Own Complicity Driven Out Of All His Happinesses One After The Other; And He Had This Sorrow, That After Having Lost Cosette Wholly In One Day, He Was Afterwards Obliged To Lose Her Again In Detail.