Quotes about Love
He sleeps although so much he was denied. He lived and when his dear love left him died. It happened of itself, in the easy way that in the morning night time follows day
— Victor Hugo
God decreed that the love which came to Cosette was a love that saves.
— Victor Hugo
Or, donner la grosse cloche en mariage à Quasimodo, c'était donner Juliette à Roméo.
— Victor Hugo
To love your neighbors is to see the face of God. - Les Miserables
— Victor Hugo
Love is like a tree; it sprouts forth of itself, sends its roots out deeply through our whole being, and often continues to flourish greenly over a heart in ruins. And the inexplicable point about it is that the more blind is this passion, the more tenacious it is. It is never more solid than when it has no reason in it.
— Victor Hugo
THE SUPREME HAPPINESS IN LIFE IS THE CONVICTION THAT WE ARE LOVED V. HUGO
— Victor Hugo
Life's greatest happiness is to be convinced we are loved
— Victor Hugo
He now clearly perceived the truth which was henceforth to be the centre of his life, namely, that while she was there, while he had her near him, he would need nothing except for her sake and fear nothing except on her account. He was not even conscious of feeling extremely cold, having taken off his coat to cover her.
— Victor Hugo
Be a religion to each other. Each man has his own fashion of adoring God. Saperlotte! the best way to adore God is to love one's wife. I love thee! that's my catechism. He who loves is orthodox.
— Victor Hugo
The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved; loved for ourselves, or rather in spite of ourselves.
— Victor Hugo
It was the second white apparition which he had encountered. The Bishop had caused the dawn of virtue to rise on his horizon; Cosette caused the dawn of love to rise.
— Victor Hugo
He fell to the seat, she by his side. There no more words. The stars were beginning to shine. How was it that their lips met? How is it that the birds sing, the the snow melts, that the rose opens, that May blooms, that the dawn whitens behind the black trees on the shivering summit of the hills?
— Victor Hugo