The soul has greater need of the ideal than of the real
A writer is a world trapped in a person.
Give to a being the useless, and deprive him of the needful, and you have the gamin.
He was fond of books, for they are cool and sure friends
Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart; I breathe at this hour the fragrance of the lilacs, the violets, and the roses, as at twenty years ago.
M. Myriel had to undergo the fate of every newcomer in a little town, where there are many mouths which talk, and very few heads which think.