I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.

To learn to read is to light a fire; every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.

A little girl without a doll is almost as unhappy, and quite as impossible, as a woman without children." from chapter VIII of Les Miserables

We are not loved by our friends for what we are; rather, we are loved in spite of what we are.

Nobody loves the light like the blind man.

The realities of life do not allow themselves to be forgotten.

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.