I met in the street a very poor young man who was in love. His hat was old, his coat worn, his cloak was out at the elbows, the water passed through his shoes, - and the stars through his soul.
She loved with so much passion as she loved with ignorance. She did not know whether it were good or evil, beneficent or dangerous, necessary or accidental, eternal or transitory, permitted or prohibited: she loved.
To love is the half of to believe.
The brutalities of progress are called revolutions. When they are over we realize this: that the human race has been roughly handled, but that it has advanced.
Art moves. Hence its civilizing power.
The most powerful symptom of love is a tenderness which becomes at times almost insupportable.
So long as ignorance and poverty exist on earth, books of the nature of Les Miserables cannot fail to be of use.
All roads are blocked to a philosophy which reduces everything to the word "no." To "no" there is only one answer and that is "yes." Nihilism has no substance. There is no such thing as nothingness, and zero does not exist. Everything is something. Nothing is nothing. Man lives more by affirmation than by bread.
But when ill indeed, Even dismissing the doctor don't always succeed.
If she gives me all her time it is because I have all her heart.
Architecture has recorded the great ideas of the human race. Not only every religious symbol, but every human thought has its page in that vast book.
He who contemplates the depths of Paris is seized with vertigo. Nothing is more fantastic. Nothing is more tragic. Nothing is more sublime.
A cannonball travels only two thousand miles an hour; light travels two hundred thousand miles a second. Such is the superiority of Jesus Christ over Napoleon.
The wind of revolutions is not tractable.
A stand can be made against invasion by an army; no stand can be made against invasion by an idea.
A tempest ceases, a cyclone passes over, a wind dies down, a broken mast can be replaced, a leak can be stopped, a fire extinguished, but what will become of this enormous brute of bronze?
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 peculiarity of grief to bring out the childish side of man.
What is said about men often has as much influence upon their lives, and especially upon their destinies, as what they do.
Do you hear the people sing? Singing a song of angry men
Freedom in art, freedom in society, this is the double goal towards which all consistent and logical minds must strive.
Thought is the labor of the intellect, reverie is its pleasure.
Civil war? What does that mean? Is there any foreign war? Isn't every war fought between men, between brothers?
It may be remarked in passing that success is an ugly thing. Men are deceived by its false resemblences to merit.
There is no rapture in the love which is prompted by esteem; such affection is lasting, not passionate.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: