Oh! Everything I loved!

A man is not idle because he is absorbed in thought. There is a visible labor and there is an invisible labor.

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

Love is a fault; so be it.

I don't mind what Congress does, as long as they don't do it in the streets and frighten the horses.

Great griefs exhaust. They discourage us with life. The man into whom they enter feels something taken from him. In youth, their visit is sad; later on, it is ominous.

To love is the half of to believe.