Need Is A Low Door Which, When

An Intelligent Hell Would Be Better Than A Stupid Paradise.

He Was At His Own Request And Through His Own Complicity Driven Out Of All His Happinesses One After The Other; And He Had This Sorrow, That After Having Lost Cosette Wholly In One Day, He Was Afterwards Obliged To Lose Her Again In Detail.

Almost All Our Desires, When Examined, Contain Something Too Shameful To Reveal.

We Are Given Up To Those Gods, Those Monsters, Those Giants, — Our Thoughts.

Nothing Is More True, More Real, Than The Primeval Magnetic Disturbances That Two Souls May Communicate To One Another, Through The Tiny Sparks Of A Moment's Glance.