There is no distress so complete but that even in the most critical moments the inexplicable sunrise of hope is seen in its depths.

A translation in verse . . . seems to me something absurd, impossible.

At a certain depth of distress, the poor, in their stupor, groan no longer over evil, and are no longer thankful for good.

The tomb is not a blind alley: it is a thoroughfare. It closes on the twilight. It opens on the dawn.

I have examined the death penalty under each of its two aspects: as a direct action, and as an indirect one. What does it come down to? Nothing but something horrible and useless, nothing but a way of shedding blood that is called a crime when an individual commits it, but is sadly called "justice" when society brings it about. Make no mistake, you lawmakers and judges, in the eyes of God as in those of conscience, what is a crime when individuals do it is no less an offense when society commits the deed.

My misfortune is that I still resemble a man too much. I should liked to be wholly a beast like that goat. - Quasimodo

Work, which makes a man free, and thought, which makes him worthy of freedom.