We may remark in passing that to be blind and beloved may, in this world where nothing is perfect, be among the most strangely exquisite forms of happiness. The supreme happiness in life is the assurance of being loved; of being loved for oneself, even in spite of oneself; and this assurance the blind man possesses. In his affliction, to be served is to be caressed. Does he lack anything? no. Possessing love he is not deprived of light. A love, moreover, that is wholly pure. There can be no blindness where there is this certainty.
Victor HugoThe aim of art is almost divine: to bring to life again if it is writing history, to create if it is writing poetry.
Victor HugoMankind is not a circle with a single center but an ellipse with two focal points of which facts are one and ideas the other.
Victor Hugo