Winter is on my head, but eternal spring is in my heart.

A stand can be made against invasion by an army; no stand can be made against invasion by an idea.

Poetry contains philosophy as the soul contains reason.

Mirrors, those revealers of the truth, are hated; that does not prevent them from being of use.

Love is like a tree: it grows by itself, roots itself deeply in our being and continues to flourish over a heart in ruin. The inexplicable fact is that the blinder it is, the more tenacious it is. It is never stronger than when it is completely unreasonable.

Enthusiasm is the fever of reason.

Ah," cried Gavroche, "what does this mean? It rains again! ...If this continues, I withdraw my subscription.