The future belongs still more to the heart than the mind. To love is the only thing that can occupy and fill up eternity. The infinite requires the inexhaustible.

The father of her child gone—alas! such partings are irrevocable—she found herself absolutely isolated, with the habit of labor lost, and the taste for pleasure acquired. Led by her liaison with Tholomyès to disdain the simple work she knew how to do, she had neglected her opportunities; now they were all gone. No resources.

I do not see one wolf immolating himself for the benefit of another wolf. So let us stay with nature. We’re at the summit, so let’s have a superior philosophy. What’s the use of being better off if we can’t see further than the next man’s nose? Let’s live for pleasure. Life is all we have. Man has another life elsewhere, above, below, anywhere? I

The sky was very dark; it was not simply the darkness of night, but there were very low clouds, which seemed to lean on the hills and, ascending, covered the whole sky. A little of the twilight, however, lingered in the zenith; and as the moon was about to rise, the clouds formed in midheaven a vault of whitish light, from which a glow fell to

But we must note in passing, that there is still a deep gulf between that sort of man and the horrible assassin of the city. The poacher lives in the forest, and the smuggler in the mountains or on the sea; cities produce ferocious men, because they produce corrupt men. Mountains, the forest, and the sea make men savage; they develop fierceness but

However, he asked himself several questions and gave several answers: “After what he has done for me, if he were a thief, would I save him? I would anyway. If he were an assassin, would I save him? I would anyway. Since he is a saint, shall I save him? Absolutely.”

Javert was born in prison. His mother was a fortune-teller whose husband was in the galleys. He grew up thinking himself outside of society, and despaired of ever entering it. He noticed that society irrevocably closes its doors on two classes of men, those who attack it and those who guard it; he could choose between these two classes only; at the

What is this story of Fantine about? It is about society buying a slave. From whom? From misery. From hunger, from cold, from loneliness, from desertion, from privation. Melancholy barter. A soul for a piece of bread. Misery makes the offer; society accepts.

The Champs-Élysées, full of sunshine and people, was nothing but glare and dust, the two elements of glory.