Who among us has not sought peace in a song?
Why worry about what threatens our heads or purses? Let us think instead of what threatens our souls.
To meditate is to labour; to think is to act.
On this point, the priest and the philosopher agree: We must die.
Lastly, this threefold poetry flows from three great sources - The Bible, Homer, Shakespeare.... The Bible before the Iliad, the Iliad before Shakespeare.
That is the explanation of war, an outrage by humanity upon humanity in despite of humanity.
There is will in the thought, there is none in the dream. The dream, which is completely spontaneous, takes and keeps, even in the gigantic and the ideal, the form of our mind. Nothing springs more directly and more sincerely from the very bottom of our souls than our unreflected and indefinite aspirations towards the splendours of destiny.
We are reassured almost as foolishly as we are alarmed; human nature is so constituted.
God made the water but men made the wine.
Heaven, on occasion, half opens its arms to us; and that is the great moment.
Nothing is really small; whoever is open to the deep penetration of nature knows this.
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.
Love is the salutation of the angel to the stars
Ah," cried Gavroche, "what does this mean? It rains again! ...If this continues, I withdraw my subscription.
A phenomenon often seen. A sceptic adhering to a believer; that is as simple as the law of the complementary colours. What we lack attracts us. Nobody loves the light like the blind man.
Die, very good, but do not make others die. Suicides like the one which is about to take place here are sublime, but suicide is restricted, and does not allow of extension; and so soon as it affects your neighbors, suicide becomes murder.
Nobody loves the light like the blind man.
Civilization survives on the constant discovery of amity and an equal supply of damnation.
There is suffering in the light; in excess it burns. Flame is hostile to the wing. To burn and yet to fly, this is the miracle of genius.
Progress is the life-style of man.
Wonderful nature has a double meaning, which dazzles great minds and blinds uncultivated souls. When man is ignorant, when the desert is filled with visions, the darkness of solitude is added to the darkness of intelligence; hence, in man, the possibilities of perdition
Since we shall love each other, I shall be great and you shall be rich.
I was always a lover of soft-winged things.
Oh Lord! Open the doors of night for me So that I may leave this place and disappear.
The persistence of an all-absorbing idea is terrible.
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