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Quotes about Life

There were corpses here and there and pools of blood. I remember seeing a butterfly flutter up and down that street. Summer does not abdicate.
— Victor Hugo
For with love there is no middle course: it destroys, or else it saves. All human destiny is contained in that dilemma, the choice between destruction and salvation, which is nowhere more implacably posed than in love. Love is life, or it is death. It is the cradle, but also the coffin. One and the same impulse moves the human heart to say yes or no. Of all things God has created it is the human heart that sheds the brightest light and, alas, the blackest despair.
— Victor Hugo
Have courage for the great sorrows of life, and patience for the small ones. And when you have finished your daily task, go to sleep in peace. God is awake.
— Victor Hugo
If no one loved, the sun would go out.
— Victor Hugo
Though one believes in nothing, there are moments in life when one accepts the religion of the temple nearest at hand.
— Victor Hugo
All of us, whoever we may be, have our respirable beings. We lack air and we stifle. Then we die. To die for lack of love is horrible. Suffocation of the soul.
— Victor Hugo
But, reverend master, it is not sufficient to pass one's life, one must earn the means for life.
— Victor Hugo
Carve as we will the mysterious block of which our life is made, the black vein of destiny constantly reappears in it.
— Victor Hugo
I have a dream my life would be. So different from this hell I'm living. So different now from what it seem. Now life has killed the dream I dreamed. *Fantine
— Victor Hugo
Thus is youth constituted; it quickly wipes its eye; it believes sorrow useless and does not accept it. Youth is the smile of the future before an unknown being which is itself. It is natural for it to be happy. IT seems as though it breathed hope.
— Victor Hugo
There are instincts which respond to all the chance meetings in life. The little girl was not afraid.
— Victor Hugo
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