Let us lament as over stomachs, over minds which do not eat. If there is anything more poignant than a body… — Victor Hugo
Let us lament as over stomachs, over minds which do not eat. If there is anything more poignant than a body agonising for want of bread, it is a soul which is dying of hunger for light.
Plaignons, à l’égal des estomacs, les esprits qui ne mangent pas. S’il y a quelque chose de plus poignant qu’un corps agonisant faute de pain, c’est une âme qui meurt de la faim de la lumière.
p. 842Source: Wikiquote · CC BY-SA 4.0
More from this book
It is nothing to die; it is horrible not to live.
The soul does not give itself up to despair until it has exhausted all illusions.
p. 968
The forests through which we have passed with our child, the trees under which we have walked, the convents in which we have hidden, the games, the free laughter of childhood, all is in shadow. I imagined that all that belonged to me. There was my folly. Those Thenardiers were wicked. We must forgive them. Cosette, the time has come to tell of your mother. Her name was Fantine. Remember that name: Fantine. Fall on your knees whenever you pronounce it. She suffered much. And loved you much. Her measure of unhappiness was as full as yours of happiness. Such are the distributions of God. He is on high, he sees us all, and he knows what he does in the midst of his great stars. So I am going away, my children. Love each other dearly always. There is scarcely anything else in the world but that: to love one another.
