Be like the bird, who
Halting in his flight
On limb too slight
Feels it give way beneath him,
Yet sings
Knowing he hath wings.[Soyez comme l’oiseau, posé pour un instant
Sur des rameaux trop frêles,
Qui sent ployer la branche et qui chante pourtant,
Sachant qu’il a des ailes!]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
“In the Church of *** [Dans l’eglise de ***],” Songs of Dusk [Les chants du crepuscule], #33 sec. 6 (1836)
(Source)
Full French poem. Alternate translations:Be like the bird that, on a bough too frail
To bear him, gaily sings!
He carols -- thought he slender branches fail:
He knows that he has wings.
[Source]Be like the bird that seeks its short repose
And dauntless sings
Upon that bending twig, because it knows
That it has wings.
[Source]Be like that bird, that halting in her flight
A while on boughs too slight;
Feels them give way beneath her,
And yet sings, yet sings,
Knowing that she hath wings.
[Laura Sedgwick Collins, 1890s song, "Be Like That Bird"]Thou art like the bird
That alights and sings
Though the frail spray bends --
For he knows he has wings.
[tr. Kemble (Butler)]Be as a bird that --
Pausing in its flight --
Alights upon a branch too slight
And feeling that it bends beneath it
Sings -- knowing it has wings.
[Source]
Quotations by:
Hugo, Victor
True or false, what is said about men often figures as large in their lives, and above all in the fate that befalls them, as what they do.
[Vrai ou faux, ce qu’on dit des hommes tient souvent autant de place dans leur vie et souvent dans leur destinée que ce qu’ils font.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 1 (1.1.1) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Be it true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]What is said of men, whether it be true or false, often occupies as much space in their life, and especially in their destiny, as what they do.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]True or false, that which is said of men often occupies as important a place in their lives, and above all in their destinies, as that which they do.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]What is reported of men, whether it be true or false, may play as large a part in their lives, and above all in their destiny, as the things they do.
[tr. Denny (1976)]Whether true or false, what is said about men often has as much influence on their lives, and particularly on their destinies, as what they do.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
M. Myriel had to submit to the fate of every newcomer in a small town, where many tongues talk but few heads think.
[M. Myriel devait subir le sort de tout nouveau venu dans une petite ville où il y a beaucoup de bouches qui parlent et fort peu de têtes qui pensent.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 1 (1.1.1) (1862) [tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
(Source)
This quotation is often given with just the second clause ("Many tongues ..."), making a more general statement than the context provides.
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:M. Myriel had to submit to the fate of every new-comer in a small town, where there are many tongues to talk, and but few heads to think.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]M. Myriel was fated to undergo the lot of every new-comer to a little town, where there are many mouths that speak, and but few heads that think.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]M. Myriel had to undergo the fate of every newcomer in a little town, where there are many mouths which talk, and very few heads which think.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]He had to accept the fate of every newcomer to a small town where are plenty of tongues that gossip and few minds that think.
[tr. Denny (1976)]Monsieur Myriel had to undergo the fate of every newcomer to a small town where there are plenty of tongues given to wagging and very few minds given to reflection.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
During one Lent a youthful vicar came to preach in the cathedral at Digne and did so with some eloquence. His theme was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor so that they might escape the torments of Hell, which he depicted in hideous terms, and attain to Paradise, which he made to sound altogether delightful, Among the congregation was a Monsieur Geborand, a wealthy and grasping retired merchant, who had made a fortune in the cloth-trade but had never been known to give anything to the poor. It was observed, after this sermon, that on Sundays he handed a single sou to the old beggar-women clustered outside the cathedral door. There were six of them to share it. Noting the event, the bishop smiled and said to his sister: “Monsieur Geborand is buying a penny-worth of Paradise.”
[Pendant un carême, un jeune vicaire vint à Digne et prêcha dans la cathédrale. Il fut assez éloquent. Le sujet de son sermon était la charité. Il invita les riches à donner aux indigents, afin d’éviter l’enfer, qu’il peignit le plus effroyable qu’il put, et de gagner le paradis, qu’il fit désirable et charmant. Il y avait dans l’auditoire un riche marchand retiré, un peu usurier, nommé M. Géborand, lequel avait gagné deux millions à fabriquer de gros draps, des serges, des cadis et des gasquets. De sa vie M. Géborand n’avait fait l’aumône à un malheureux. À partir de ce sermon, on remarqua qu’il donnait tous les dimanches un sou aux vieilles mendiantes du portail de la cathédrale. Elles étaient six à se partager cela. Un jour, l’évêque le vit faisant sa charité et dit à sa sœur avec un sourire : — Voilà monsieur Géborand qui achète pour un sou de paradis.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 4 (1.1.4) (1862) [tr. Denny (1976)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to D---, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they would escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colours, and enter that paradise which he painted as so desirable and inviting. There was a retired merchant of wealth in the audience, a little given to usury, M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloths and serges. Never, in the whole course of his life, had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate ; but from the date of this sermon it was noticed that he gave regularly, every Sunday, a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. The bishop chanced to see him one day, as he was performing this act of charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “See Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise.”
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]During one Lent a young vicar came to D.... and preached at the cathedral. He was rather eloquent, and the subject of his sermon was charity. He invited the rich to give to the needy in order to escape hell, which he painted in the most frightful way he could, and reach paradise, which he made desirable and charming. There was among the congregation a rich retired merchant, somewhat of an usurer, who had acquired $400,000 by manufacturing coarse cloths, serges, and caddis. In his whole lifetime M. Géborand had never given alms to a beggar, but after this sermon it was remarked that he gave every Sunday a cent to the old beggars at the cathedral gate. There were six women to share it. One day the bishop saw him bestowing his charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, “Look at M. Géborand buying a bit of paradise for a cent.”
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]In the course of one Lent, a youthful vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. He was tolerably eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor, in order to avoid hell, which he depicted in the most frightful manner of which he was capable, and to win paradise, which he represented as charming and desirable. Among the audience there was a wealthy retired merchant, who was somewhat of a usurer, named M. Geborand, who had amassed two millions in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serges, and woolen galloons. Never in his whole life had M. Geborand bestowed alms on any poor wretch. After the delivery of that sermon, it was observed that he gave a sou every Sunday to the poor old beggar-women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the Bishop caught sight of him in the act of bestowing this charity, and said to his sister, with a smile, "There is M. Geborand purchasing paradise for a sou."
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne, and preached in the cathedral. The subject of his sermon was charity, and he treated it very eloquently. He called upon the rich to give alms to the poor, if they were to escape the tortures of hell, which he pictured in the most fearful colors, and enter paradise, which he portrayed as desirable and inviting. There was a wealthy retired merchant at the service, somewhat inclined to usury, a M. Geborand, who had accumulated an estate of two million from manufacturing coarse cloth and woolens. Never in all his life had M. Geborand given alms to the unfortunate; but from the day of this sermon it was noticed that regularly every Sunday he gave a penny to the old beggar women at the door of the cathedral. There were six of them to share it. One day the bishop, seeing him perform this act of charity, said to his sister with a smile, 'There's Monsieur Geborand, buying a pennyworth of paradise."
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]Once, during Lent, a young vicar came to Digne and preached in the cathedral. He was quite eloquent. The subject of his sermon was charity. He urged the rich to give to the poor so to as avoid going to hell, which he depicted in the most dreadful terms he could, and to get to parasdise, which he represented as desirable and delightful. Among hsi audience was a somewhat tight-fisted retired wealthy merchant named Monsieur Géborand, who had amassed half a million in the manufacture of coarse cloth, serge, caddis and felt caps. Monsieur Géborand had never in his life been charitable to any poor unfortunate. After that sermon it was noticed he gave one sou every Sunday to the old beggar-women at the cathedral door. They had to share it between six of them. One day the bishop saw him making his donation and said to his sister with a smile, "There's Monsieur Géborand buying one sou's worth of paradise."
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
To be a saint is the exception. To be a good man is the rule. Err, weaken and sin, but be among the good.
[Être un saint, c’est l’exception ; être un juste, c’est la règle. Errez, défaillez, péchez, mais soyez des justes.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 4 (1.1.4) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
Part of the short summary of Bishop Myriel's teachings. (Source (French)). Alternate translations:To be a saint is the exception; to be upright is the rule. Err, falter, sin, but be upright.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]To be a saint is the exception, to be a just man is the rule. Err, fail, sin, but be just.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]To be a saint is the exception; to be an upright man is the rule. Err, fall, sin if you will, but be upright.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]To be a saint is to be an exception; to be a true man is the rule. Err, fail, sin if you must, but be upright.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
When he [Bishop Myriel] saw everyone condemning very loudly and being very quick to express indignation, “Oh my,” he would say with a smile, “this looks like being a great crime that everyone commits. Here we have hypocrisies in fright, hurrying to protest and to take cover.”
[Quand il voyait tout le monde crier bien fort et s’indigner bien vite: — «Oh! oh! disait-il en souriant, il y a apparence que ceci est un gros crime que tout le monde commet. Voilà les hypocrisies effarées qui se dépêchent de protester et de se mettre à couvert.»]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 1 “An Upright Man,” ch. 4 (1.1.4) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:When he heard many exclaiming, and expressing great indignation against anything, “Oh! oh!” he would say, smiling. “It would seem that this is a great crime, of which they are all guilty. How frightened hypocrisy hastens to defend itself, and to get under cover.”
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]When he saw everybody cry out and grow indignant, all of a sudden, he would say with a smile, “Oh! oh, it seems as if this is a great crime which all the world is committing. Look at the startled hypocrites, hastening to protest and place themselves under cover.”
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]When he saw everyone exclaiming very loudly, and growing angry very quickly, "Oh! oh!" he said, with a smile; "to all appearance, this is a great crime which all the world commits. These are hypocrisies which have taken fright, and are in haste to make protest and to put themselves under shelter."
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]Any ill-considered outburst of popular indignation would cause him to smile. ‘It appears,’ he would say, ‘that this is a crime which everyone commits. See how outraged hypocrisy hurries to cover itself!’
[tr. Denny (1976)]When he heard people raising a hue and cry, easily finding fault, "Oh ho!" he would say, with a smile. "It would seem that this is a great crime that everyone commits. See how an offended hypocrisy is quick to protest and run for cover."
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves — say rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
[Le suprême bonheur de la vie, c’est la conviction qu’on est aimé; aimé pour soi-même, disons mieux, aimé malgré soi-même.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 5 “The Descent,” ch. 4 (1.5.4) (1862) [tr. Wilbour (1862)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:The supreme happiness of life is the conviction of being loved for yourself, or, more correctly speaking, loved in spite of yourself.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]The greatest happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved -- loved for ourselves, or rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
[E.g. (1873)]The supreme happiness of life consists in the conviction that one is loved; loved for one's own sake -- let us say rather, loved in spite of one's self.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]The supreme happiness in life is the assurance of being loved; of being loved for oneself, even in spite of oneself.
[tr. Denny (1976)]The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves -- say rather, loved in spite of ourselves.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that you are loved, loved for yourself, better still, loved despite yourself.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
It is our firm belief that if souls were visible to the eye we should clearly see that strange thing whereby every single member of the human species corresponds to some species of the animal world. And we would easily be able to recognize that truth barely apprehended by the philosopher, which is that, from the oyster to the eagle, from the pig to the tiger, all animals are to be found in mankind, and each one of them is to be found in some man. Sometimes even several at a time.
[Dans notre conviction, si les âmes étaient visibles aux yeux, on verrait distinctement cette chose étrange que chacun des individus de l’espèce humaine correspond à quelqu’une des espèces de la création animale ; et l’on pourrait reconnaître aisément cette vérité à peine entrevue par le penseur, que, depuis l’huître jusqu’à l’aigle, depuis le porc jusqu’au tigre, tous les animaux sont dans l’homme et que chacun d’eux est dans un homme. Quelquefois même plusieurs d’entre eux à la fois.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 1 “Fantine,” Book 5 “The Descent,” ch. 5 (1.5.5) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
Commentary while introducing Javert (whose "animal" is the one wolf born in each litter which is killed by the mother so that he does not kill the others).
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:It is our conviction that if souls were visible to the eyes, we should be able to see distinctly that strange thing, that each one individual of the human race corresponds to some one of the species of the animal creation; and we could easily recognize this truth, hardly perceived by the thinker, that from the oyster to the eagle, from the pig to the tiger, all animals exist in man, and that in each one of them is in a man. Sometimes even several of them at a time.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]In our conviction, if souls were visible we should distinctly see the strange fact that every individual of the human species corresponds to some one of the species of animal creation; and we might easily recognize the truth, which has as yet scarce occurred to the thinker, that, from the oyster to the eagle, from the hog to the tiger, all animals are in man, and that each of them is in a man; at times, several of them at once.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]It is our conviction that if souls were visible to the eyes, we should be able to see distinctly that strange thing that each one individual of the human race corresponds to some one of the species of the animal creation; and we could easily recognize this truth, hardly perceived by the thinker, that from the oyster to the eagle, from the pig to the tiger, all animals exist in man, and that each one of them is in a man. Sometimes even several of them at a time.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]It is our belief that if the soul were visible to the eye every member of the human species would be seen to correspond to some species of the animal world and a truth scarcely perceived by thinkers would be readily confirmed, namely, that from the oyster to the eagle, from the swine to the tiger, all animals are to be found in men and each of them exists in some man, sometimes several at a time.
[tr. Denny (1976)]It is our belief that if the soul were visible to the eye, every member of the human species would be seen to correspond to some species of the animal world, and a truth scarcely perceived by thinkers would be readily confirmed, namely, that from the oyster to the eagle, from the swine to the tiger, all animals are to be found in men and each of them exists in some man, sometimes several at a time.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
The greatest follies, like the stoutest ropes, are often composed of a multitude of strands. Take the cable thread by thread, take separately each petty determining motive, and you can snap them one by one and say, “There’s no more to it than that!” Braid them and twist them together, and what you have is momentous.
[Les fortes sottises sont souvent faites, comme les grosses cordes, d’une multitude de brins. Prenez le câble fil à fil, prenez séparément tous les petits motifs déterminants, vous les cassez l’un après l’autre, et vous dites: Ce n’est que cela! Tressez-les et tordez-les ensemble, c’est une énormité.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 2 “Cosette,” Book 5 “Dark Hunt, Mute Mutts,” ch. 10 (2.5.10) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Great blunders are often made, like large ropes, of a multitude of fibres. Take the cable thread by thread, take separately all the little determining motives, you break them one after another, and you say: that is all. Wind them and twist them together, they become an enormity.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]Great follies are often made, like stout ropes, of a multitude of fibers. Take the cable, thread by thread, catch hold of the small determining motives separately, and you break them one after the other, and say to yourself, “It is only that”; but twist them together and you have an enormity.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]The greatest follies are often composed, like the largest ropes, of a multitude of strands. Take the cable thread by thread, take all the petty determining motives separately, and you can break them one after the other, and you say, "That is all there is of it!" Braid them, twist them together; the result is enormous.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]The greatest blunders, like the thickest ropes, are often compounded of a multitude of strands. Take the rope apart, separate it into the small threads that compose it, and you can break them one by one. You think, 'That is all there was!' But twist them all together, and you have something tremendous.
[tr. Denny (1976)]Great blunders are often made, like large ropes, of a multitude of fibers. Take the cable thread by thread, take all the little determining motives separately, you break them one after another, and you say: That is all it is. Braid them and twist them together, they become an enormity.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
Upon the first goblet he read this inscription, monkey wine; upon the second, lion wine; upon the third, sheep wine; upon the fourth, swine wine. These four inscriptions expressed the four descending degrees of drunkenness: the first, that which enlivens; the second, that which irritates; the third, that which stupefies; finally the last, that which brutalizes.
[Sur le premier gobelet on lisait cette inscription: vin de singe, sur le deuxième: vin de lion, sur le troisième: vin de mouton, sur le quatrième: vin de cochon. Ces quatre légendes exprimaient les quatre degrés que descend l’ivrogne; la première ivresse, celle qui égaye; la deuxième, celle qui irrite; la troisième, celle qui hébète; la dernière enfin, celle qui abrutit.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 2 “Cosette,” Book 6 “Petite Picpus,” ch. 9 (2.6.9) (1862) [tr. Wilbour (1862)]
(Source)
An anecdote told by a century-old nun about filled wine goblets customarily presented, before the Revolution, by city fathers to important personages who passed through in Burgandy or Champagne.
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:On the the first cup was the inscription “ape-wine,” on the second, “lion-wine,” on the third, “sheep-wine,” and on the fourth, “hog-wine.” These four mottoes expressed the four stages of intoxication—the first that enlightens, the second that irritates, the third that dulls, and the fourth that brutalizes.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]On the first goblet this inscription could be read, monkey wine; on the second, lion wine; on the third, sheep wine; on the fourth, hog wine. These four legends express the four stages descended by the drunkard; the first, intoxication, which enlivens; the second, that which irritates; the third, that which dulls; and the fourth, that which brutalizes.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)][...] four goblets, each of which bore a different wine and bore a different inscription -- vin de singe, vin de lion, vin de mouton, and vin de cochon.. They represented the four stages of intoxication -- gaiety, quarrelsomeness, dull-wittedness, and finally stupor.
[tr. Denny (1976)]On the first goblet he read the inscription "monkey wine," on the second "lion wine," on the third "sheep wine," on the fourth "swine wine." These four inscriptions expressed the four descending degrees of drunkenness: the first, which enlivens; the second, which irritates; the third, which stupefies; finally the last, which brutalizes.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]On the first goblet an inscription read: 'monkey's wine'; on the second, 'lion's wine'; on the third, 'sheep's wine'; on the fourth, 'hog's wine'. These four legends expressed the four stages of intoxication through which the drunkard descends: the first, of merriment; the second, of ill temper; the third, of dullness; and the fourth, of brutishness.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
Laughter is sunshine; it chases winter from the human face.
[Le rire, c’est le soleil; il chasse l’hiver du visage humain.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 2 “Cosette,” Book 8 “Cemeteries Take What Is Given Them,” ch. 9 (2.8.9) (1862) [tr. Wilbour (1862)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:For laughter is the sun which drives winter from the human face.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]A smile is the same as sunshine; it banishes winter from the human countenance.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]Laughter is a sun that drives out winter from the human face.
[tr. Denny (1976)]Laughter is sunshine; it chases winter from the human face.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]Laughter is sunshine. It banishes winter from the human countenance.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
This brother, who is little remembered, was a complacent miser who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor he encountered, though he never gave them anything but worthless Revolutionary coins or demonetized sous, thereby contriving to go to hell by following the path to paradise.
[Ce frère, dont il est resté peu de souvenir, était un paisible avare, qui, étant prêtre, se croyait obligé de faire l’aumône aux pauvres qu’il rencontrait, mais il ne leur donnait jamais que des monnerons ou des sous démonétisés, trouvant ainsi moyen d’aller en enfer par le chemin du paradis.]Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 3 “Marius,” Book 2 “The Grand Bourgeois,” ch. 6 (3.2.6) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:This brother, of whom hardly a memory is left, was a quiet miser, who, being a priest, felt obliged to give alms to the poor whom he met, but never gave them anything more than coppers or worn-out sous, finding thus the means of going to Hell by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wilbour (1862); tr. Wilbour / Fahnestock / MacAfee (1987)]This brother, who is not much remembered, was a great miser, who, as he was a priest, thought himself bound to give alms to the poor he met, but he never gave them aught but bad or called-in money, thus finding means of going to Hades by the road to Paradise.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]This brother, of whom but little memory remains, was a peaceable miser, who, being a priest, thought himself bound to bestow alms on the poor whom he met, but he never gave them anything except bad or demonetized sous, thereby discovering a means of going to hell by way of paradise.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]The brother, whom he scarcely remembered, had been a peaceable skinflint who, being a priest, felt it his duty to give alms to such of the poor as he encountered; but the coins he gave them were always obsolete currency, and thus he found means of going to Hell by way of Paradise.
[tr. Denny (1976)]
There are thoughts which are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body, the soul is on its knees.
[De certaines pensées sont des prières. Il y a des moments où, quelle que soit l’attitude du corps, l’âme est à genoux.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 4 “Saint Denis,” Book 5 “The End of Which Does Not Resemble the Beginning,” ch. 4 (4.5.4) (1862) [tr. Denny (1976)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever be the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when the soul is kneeling, no matter what the attitude of the body may be.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body may be, the soul is on its knees.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
There is such a thing as internal collapse. Despairing certitude does not infiltrate a human being without displacing and disrupting certain profound elements that sometimes constitute the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this pitch, routs all strength of conscience. These are deadly crises. Few of us emerge from them true to ourselves and steadfast in our duty. When the limit of endurance is exceeded, the most unshakeable virtue is undermined.
[Il y a des effondrements intérieurs. La pénétration d’une certitude désespérante dans l’homme ne se fait point sans écarter et rompre de certains éléments profonds qui sont quelquefois l’homme lui-même. La douleur, quand elle arrive à ce degré, est un sauve-qui-peut de toutes les forces de la conscience. Ce sont là des crises fatales. Peu d’entre nous en sortent semblables à eux-mêmes et fermes dans le devoir. Quand la limite de la souffrance est débordée, la vertu la plus imperturbable se déconcerte.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Part 4 “Saint Denis,” Book 15 “The Rue de L’Homme Armé,” ch. 1 (4.15.1) (1862) [tr. Donougher (2013)]
(Source)
Valjean "internally collapsing" at the realization that Cosette plans to leave him for Marius, and deciding to track Marius down to confront or even kill him.
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:There are interior subsoilings. The penetration of a torturing certainty into man does not occur without breaking up and pulverising certain deep elements which are sometimes the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this stage, is a panic of all the forces of the soul. These are fatal crises. Few among us come through them without change, and firm in duty. When the limit of suffering is overpassed, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]There are such things as internal landslides; the penetration of a desperate certainty into a man is not effected without removing and breaking certain profound elements which are at times the man himself. Grief, when it attains that pitch, is a frantic flight of all the forces of the conscience, and such crises are fatal Few among us emerge from them equal to ourselves and firm in our duty, for when the limit of suffering is exceeded the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]There is such a thing as the sudden giving way of the inward subsoil. A despairing certainty does not make its way into a man without thrusting aside and breaking certain profound elements which, in some cases, are the very man himself. Grief, when it attains this shape, is a headlong flight of all the forces of the conscience. These are fatal crises. Few among us emerge from them still like ourselves and firm in duty. When the limit of endurance is overstepped, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]There is such a thing as spiritual collapse. The thrust of a desperate certainty into a man cannot occur without the disruption of certain profound elements which are sometimes the man himself. Anguish, when it has reached this stage, becomes a panic-flight of all the powers of conscience. There are mortal crises from which few of us emerge in our right mind, with our sense of duty still intact. When the limit of suffering is overpassed the most impregnable virtue is plunged in disarray.
[tr. Denny (1976)]There are interior collapses. The penetration of a torturing certainty within man does not occur without breaking up and pulverizing certain deep elements that are sometimes the man himself. Grief, when it reaches this level, is a panic of all the forces of consciousness. These are fatal crises. Few among us come through them unchanged and firm in duty. When the limit of suffering is topped, the most imperturbable virtue is disconcerted.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
So long as there shall exist, by virtue of law and custom, decrees of damnation pronounced by society, artificially creating hells amid the civilization of earth, and adding the element of human fate to divine destiny; so long as the three great problems of the century — the degradation of man through pauperism, the corruption of woman through hunger, the crippling of children through lack of light — are unsolved; so long as social asphyxia is possible in any part of the world; — in other words, and with a still wider significance, so long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Misérables cannot fail to be of use.
[Tant qu’il existera, par le fait des lois et des mœurs, une damnation sociale créant artificiellement, en pleine civilisation, des enfers, et compliquant d’une fatalité humaine la destinée qui est divine; tant que les trois problèmes du siècle, la dégradation de l’homme par le prolétariat, la déchéance de la femme par la faim, l’atrophie de l’enfant par la nuit, ne seront pas résolus; tant que, dans de certaines régions, l’asphyxie sociale sera possible; en d’autres termes, et à un point de vue plus étendu encore, tant qu’il y aura sur la terre ignorance et misère, des livres de la nature de celui-ci pourront ne pas être inutiles.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Preface (1862) [tr. Hapgood (1887)]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation, which, in the face of civilization, artificially creates hells on earth, and complicates a destiny that is divine, with human fatality; so long as the three problems of the age -- the degradation of man by poverty, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the dwarfing of childhood by physical and spiritual night -- are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible ; in other words, and from a yet more extended point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, books like this cannot be useless.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]As long as there shall exist, as a consequence of laws and customs, a social damnation artificially creating hells in the midst of civilization, and complicating the destiny which is divine with a fatality which is human; as long as the three problems of the age -- the degradation of man by the proletariat, the ruin of woman by hunger, the atrophy of the child by the night—are not solved; as long as in certain regions social asphyxia shall be possible; in other terms, and from a still more extended point of view, as long as there shall be on the earth ignorance and wretchedness, books of the nature of this one cannot be useless.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]While through the working of laws and customs there continues to exist a condition of social condemnation which artificially creates a human hell within civilization, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; while the three great problems of this century, the degradation of man in the proletariat, the subjection of women through hunger, the atrophy of the child by darkness, continue unresolved; while in some regions social asphyxia remains possible; in other words, and in still wider terms, while ignorance and poverty persist on earth, books such as this cannot fail to be of value.
[tr. Denny (1976)]So long as there shall exist, by reason of law and custom, a social condemnation which, in the midst of civilization, artificially creates a hell on earth, and complicates with human fatality a destiny that is divine; so long as the three problems of the century -- the degradation of man by the exploitation of his labor, the ruin of woman by starvation, and the atrophy of childhood by physical and spiritual night -- are not solved; so long as, in certain regions, social asphyxia shall be possible; in other words, and, from a still broader point of view, so long as ignorance and misery remain on earth, there should be a need for books such as this.
[tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]As long as through the workings of laws and customs there exists a. damnation-by-society artificially creating hells int he very midst of civilization and complicating destiny, which is divine, with a man-made fate; as long as the three problems of the age are not resolved: the debasement of of men through proletarianization, the moral degradation of women through hunger, and the blighting of children by keeping them in darkness; as long as in certain strata social suffocation is possible; in other words and from an even broader perspective, as long as there are ignorance and poverty on earth, books of this kind may serve some purpose.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
These bare feet, these naked arms, these rags, these shades of ignorance, depths of despair, the gloom can be used for the conquest of the ideal. Look through the medium of the people, and you will discern the truth. This lowly sand that you trample underfoot, if you throw it into the furnace and let it melt and seethe, will become sparkling crystal; and thanks to such as this a Galileo and a Newton will discover the stars.
[Ces pieds nus, ces bras nus, ces haillons, ces ignorances, ces abjections, ces ténèbres, peuvent être employés à la conquête de l’idéal. Regardez à travers le peuple et vous apercevrez la vérité. Ce vil sable que vous foulez aux pieds, qu’on le jette dans la fournaise, qu’il y fonde et qu’il y bouillonne, il deviendra cristal splendide, et c’est grâce à lui que Galilée et Newton découvriront les astres.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Vol. 3 “Marius,” Book 1 “Paris in Microcosm,” ch. 12 “The Future Latent in the People” (1862) [tr. Wilbour/Fahnestock/MacAfee (1987)]
(Source)
The author speaking, criticizing philosophers and scholars who dismiss the common people, or "mob."
(Source (French)). Alternate translations:These bare feet, these naked arms, these rags, these shades of ignorance, these depths of abjectness, these abysses of gloom may be employed in the conquest of the ideal. This lowly sand which you trample beneath your feet, if you cast it into the furnace, and let it melt and seethe, shall become resplendent crystal, and by means of such as it a Galileo and a Newton shall discover stars.
[tr. Wilbour (1862)]These bare feet, these naked arms, these rags, this ignorance, this abjectness, this darkness, may be employed for the conquest of the ideal. Look through the people, and you will perceive the truth; the vile sand which you trample under foot, when cast into the furnace and melted, will become splendid crystal, and by its aid Galileo and Newton discover stars.
[tr. Wraxall (1862)]These bare feet, these bare arms, these rags, these ignorances, these abjectnesses, these darknesses, may be employed in the conquest of the ideal. Gaze past the people, and you will perceive truth. Let that vile sand which you trample under foot be cast into the furnace, let it melt and seethe there, it will become a splendid crystal, and it is thanks to it that Galileo and Newton will discover stars.
[tr. Hapgood (1887)]Those bare feet and arms, the rags, the ignorance, the abjection, the dark places, all may be enlisted in the service of the ideal. Peer through the heart of the people and you will discover the truth. The common sand that you tread underfoot, let it be cast into the furnace to boil and melt and it will become a crystal as splendid as that through which Galileo and Newton discovered the stars.
[tr. Denny (1976)]These bare feet, bare arms, rags, this benightedness, degradation, darkness may be used for the conquest of the ideal. Look through the populace and you will see the truth. This vile sand you trample underfoot -- let it be thrown into the furnace, let it melt and bubble there. It will turn into clear crystal, and it is thanks to this crystal that Galileo and newton will discover the stars.
[tr. Donougher (2013)]
We should judge a man much more surely from what he dreams than from what he thinks.
[On jugerait bien plus sûrement un homme d’après ce qu’il rêve que d’après ce qu’il pense.]
Great perils have this beauty, that they bring to light the fraternity of strangers.
[Les grands périls ont cela de beau qu’ils mettent en lumière la fraternité des inconnus.]
Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure.
[La pensée est le labeur de l’intelligence, la rêverie en est la volupté.]
Nothing is more dangerous than discontinued labor; it is a habit lost. A habit easy to abandon, difficult to resume.
[Rien n’est plus dangereux que le travail discontinué; c’est une habitude qui s’en va. Habitude facile à quitter, difficile à reprendre.]
The first symptom of true love in a young man is timidity; in a young girl it is boldness. This is surprising, and yet nothing is more simple. It is the two sexes tending to approach each other and assuming each the other’s qualities.
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Les Misérables, Vol. 4, Book 3, ch. 6 (1862) [tr. Hapgood]
(Source)
Let the one fight for his flag, and the other for his ideal, and let them both imagine that they are fighting for the country; the strife will be colossal.
[Que l’un combatte pour son drapeau, et que l’autre combatte pour son idéal, et qu’ils s’imaginent tous les deux combattre pour la patrie; la lutte sera colossale.]
It is nothing to die; it is horrible not to live.
[Ce n’est rien de mourir; c’est affreux de ne pas vivre.]
Concision in style, precision in thought, decision in life.
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
Postscriptum de Ma Vie [Victor Hugo’s Intellectual Autobiography] (1907) [tr. O’Rourke]
(Source)
One resists the invasion of armies; one does not resist the invasion of ideas.
[On résiste à l’invasion des armées; on ne résiste pas à l’invasion des idées.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
The History of a Crime [Histoire d’un Crime], ch. 10, Conclusion [tr. Joyce & Locker]
Alternate translations/paraphrases:
- One withstands the invasion of armies; one does not withstand the invasion of ideas.
- One can resist the invasion of armies; one cannot resist the invasion of ideas.
- One cannot resist an idea whose time has come.
- No one can resist an idea whose time has come.
- Nothing is stronger than an idea whose time has come.
- Armies cannot stop an idea whose time has come.
- No army can stop an idea whose time has come.
- Nothing is as powerful as an idea whose time has come.
- Nothing is so powerful as an idea whose time has come.
- There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world, and that is an idea whose time has come.
You have enemies? Why, it is the story of every man who has done a great deed or created a new idea. It is the cloud which thunders around everything that shines. Fame must have enemies, as light must have gnats. Do no bother yourself about it; disdain. Keep your mind serene as you keep your life clear.
[Vous avez des ennemis? Mais c’est l’histoire de tout homme qui a fait une action grande ou crée une idée neuve. C’est la nuée qui bruit autour de tout ce qui brille. Il faut que la renommé ait des ennemis comme il faut que la lumière ait des moucherons. Ne vous en inquiétez pas, dédaignez! Ayez la sérénité dans votre esprit comme vous avez la limpidité dans votre vie.]
God manifests himself to us in the first degree through the life of the universe, and in the second degree through the thought of man. The second manifestation is not less holy than the first. The first is named Nature, the second is named Art.
[Dieu se manifeste à nous au premier degré à travers la vie de l’univers, et au deuxième degré à travers la pensée de l’homme. La deuxième manifestation n’est pas moins sacrée que la première. La première s’appelle la Nature, la deuxième s’appelle l’Art.]
Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent.
[Ce qu’on ne peut dire et ce qu’on ne peut taire, la musique l’exprime.]
Victor Hugo (1802-1885) French writer
William Shakespeare, Part 1, Book 2, ch. 4 (1864) [tr. Baillot]
(Source)
(Source (French)). Alternate translation:Music expresses that which cannot be said, and which cannot be suppressed.
[tr. Anderson (1891)]
You are right, sir, when you tell me that Les Misérables is written for all nations. I do not know whether it will be read by all, but I wrote it for all. It is addressed to England as well as to Spain, to Italy as well as to France, to Germany as well as to Ireland, to Republics which have slaves as well as to Empires which have serfs. Social problems overstep frontiers. The sores of the human race, those great sores which cover the globe, do not halt at the red or blue lines traced upon the map. In every place where man is ignorant and despairing, in every place where woman is sold for bread, wherever the child suffers for lack of the book which should instruct him and of the hearth which should warm him, the book of Les Misérables knocks at the door and says: “Open to me, I come for you.”
[Vous avez raison, monsieur, quand vous me dites que le livre les Misérables est écrit pour tous les peuples. Je ne sais s’il sera lu par tous, mais je l’ai écrit pour tous. Il s’adresse à l’Angleterre autant qu’à l’Espagne, à l’Italie autant qu’à la France, à l’Allemagne autant qu’à l’Irlande, aux républiques qui ont des esclaves aussi bien qu’aux empires qui ont des serfs. Les problèmes sociaux dépassent les frontières. Les plaies du genre humain, ces larges plaies qui couvrent le globe, ne s’arrêtent point aux lignes bleues ou rouges tracées sur la mappemonde. Partout où l’homme ignore et désespère, partout où la femme se vend pour du pain, partout où l’enfant souffre faute d’un livre qui l’enseigne et d’un foyer qui le réchauffe, le livre les Misérables frappe à la porte et dit: Ouvrez-moi, je viens pour vous.]