I put a Phrygian cap on the old dictionary.

Marius was of the temperament that sinks into grief and remains there; Cosette was of the sort that plunges in and comes out again.

At that moment of love, a moment when passion is absolutely silent under omnipotence of ecstasy, Marius, pure seraphic Marius, would have been more capable of visiting a woman of the streets than of raising Cosette’s dress above the ankle. Once on a moonlit night, Cosette stopped to pick up something from the ground, her dress loosened and revealed the swelling of her breasts. Marius averted his eyes.

The realities of life do not allow themselves to be forgotten.

God made only water, but man made wine.

He sought...to transform the grief which looks down into the grave by showing it the grief which looks up to the stars.

Astronomy, that micography of heaven, is the most magnificent of the sciences. ... Astronomy has its clear side and its luminous side; on its clear side it is tinctured with algebra, on its luminous side with poetry.