Sorrow is a fruit. God does not make it grow on limbs too weak to bear it. – Victor Hugo
What would be ugly in a garden constitutes beauty in a mountain. – Victor Hugo
Sorrow is a fruit. God does not make it grow on limbs too weak to bear it. – Victor Hugo
What would be ugly in a garden constitutes beauty in a mountain. – Victor Hugo
He, who every morning plans the transactions of the day, and follows that plan, carries a thread that will guide him through a labyrinth of the most busy life. – Victor Hugo
How did it happen that their lips came together? How does it happen that birds sing, that snow melts, that the rose unfolds, that the dawn whitens behind the stark shapes of trees on the quivering summit of the hill? A kiss, and all was said. – Victor Hugo