Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age.
To die is nothing; but it is terrible not to live.
Gavroche had fallen only to rise again; he sat up, a long stream of blood rolled down his face, he raised both arms in air, looked in the direction whence the shot came, and began to sing.
Oh! Everything I loved!
Puns are the droppings of soaring wits.
If you wish to understand what Revolution is, call it Progress; and if you wish to understand what Progress is, call it Tomorrow.