Quotes About Sacrifice

True, I tore the drapery from the altar; but it was to dress the wounds of the country.

La dicha que habría podido encontrar en la tierra si ella no hubiera sido gitana ni él sacerdote; si Febo no hubiera existido y si ella lo hubiera amado.

There are two stages - living on little, and living on nothing. They are like two rooms, the first dark, the second pitch-black.

Alas! that was the greatest of sacrifices, the most poignant of victories, the final step to be taken, but he must do it. Mournful destiny! he could only enter into the sanctity in the eyes of God, by returning into infamy in the eyes of men!

S'il avait eu le Pérou dans sa poche, certainement il l'eût donné à la danseuse ; mais Gringoire n'avait pas le Pérou, et d'ailleurs l'Amérique n'était pas encore découverte.

A hundred francs, thought Fantine. But in what trade can one earn a hundred sous a day? Come! said she, let us sell what is left. The unfortunate girl became a woman of the town.

to be hated! to love with all the fury of one's soul; to feel that one would give for the least of her smiles, one's blood, one's vitals, one's fame, one's salvation, one's immortality and eternity

What is this history of Fantine? It is society purchasing a slave. From whom? From misery. From hunger, cold, isolation, destitution. A dolorous bargain. A soul for a morsel of bread. Misery offers; society accepts.

Thus it is. And we sacrifice ourselves for these visions, which are almost always illusions for the sacrificed, but illusions with which, after all, the whole of human certainty is mingled. We throw ourselves into these tragic affairs and become intoxicated with that which we are about to do. Who knows? We may succeed.

to arrive at this flourishing condition had required years. He had undergone everything, in the shape of privation; he had done everything, except get into debt. Rather than borrow, he did not eat.

momentary life has its rights, and is not bound to sacrifice itself constantly to the future.

To fall into it again in appearance was to leave it behind in reality! He had to do it! He would have done nothing if he didn't do that! His whole life would have been useless, all his penitence wasted, and there would be only one thing left to say: What is the point?

Le livre, comme livre, appartient à l'auteur, mais comme pensée, il appartient -le mot n'est pas trop vaste- au genre humain. Toutes les intelligences y ont droit. Si l'un des deux droits, le droit de l'écrivain et le droit de l'esprit humain, devait être sacrifié, ce serait, certes, le droit de l'écrivain, car l'intérêt public est notre préoccupation unique, et tous, je le déclare, doivent passer avant nous.

What dangers you run, O noble souls! Often, you give your heart, but we take only your body. Your heart is left to you and you look at it in the shadows and shudder.

A person may not want any more of his cake; but that is no reason for giving it away.

VOLUME II.—COSETTE

Si se quiere ser feliz, señor, no se puede tener sentido del deber; pues, si uno lo tiene, el deber es implacable. Se diría que nos castiga por querer cumplir con él; pero, no, más bien nos recompensa, pues nos precipita en un infierno en el que nos sentimos cerca de Dios. Apenas nos hemos desgarrado las entrañas, nos hallamos en paz con nosotros mismos.

I am not enthusiastic over your Jesus, who preaches renunciation and sacrifice to the last extremity. 'Tis the counsel of an avaricious man to beggars. Renunciation; why? Sacrifice; to what end? I do not see one wolf immolating himself for the happiness of another wolf. Let us stick to nature, then.

Something new was entering his soul. Jean Valjean had never loved anything... But, as he was fifty-five and Cosette was only eight, all the love he might have felt through his whole life melted into a sort of ineffable glow. This was the second white vision he had met. The bishop had caused the dawn of virtue on his horizon; Cosette had invoked the dawn of love.

The transept belfry and the two towers were to him three great cages, the birds in which, taught by him, would sing for him alone. Yet it was these same bells which had made him deaf; but mothers are often fondest of the child who has made them suffer most.

Love is life, if it is not death.

The convict was transfigured into Christ.

And even to those who deny supernatural incarnations, what does the crucifix represent? The killing of a man of wisdom.

Monsieur Mayor," said the bishop, "that is just it. I am not in the world to care for my life, but for souls.