There is suffering in the light; in excess it burns. Flame is hostile to the wing. To burn and yet to fly, that is the miracle of genius.
The barber in his shop, warmed by a good stove, was shaving a customer and casting from time to time a look towards this enemy, this frozen and brazen gamin, who had both hands in his pockets, but his wits evidently out of their sheath.
On the other hand, this affair afforded great delight to Madame Magloire.
The wretchedness of a child interests a mother, the wretchedness of a young man interests a young girl, the wretchedness of an old man interests no one. It is, of all distresses, the coldest.
There are fathers who do not love their children; there is no grandfather who does not adore his grandson.
What would be ugly in a garden constitutes beauty in a mountain.