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She let her head fall back on Marius’s knees and her eyelids closed. He thought the poor soul had gone. Eponine lay motionless, but just when Marius supposed her forever asleep, she slowly opened her eyes, revealing the somber depths of death and said to him with an accent whose sweetness seemed to come from another world,“And then, do you know, Monsieur Marius, I believe I was a little in love with you”

I would follow Enjolras to the end

I suspect that God is not rich. He keeps up appearances, it is true, but I sense the pinch. He gives a revolution as a merchant whose credit is low gives a ball. We mustn’t judge the gods by appearances. Beneath the gliding of the sky I catch a glimpse of a poor universe. Creation is bankrupt. That’s why I am a malcontent.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love one another, but to give them unending duration.

Certain thoughts are prayers. There are moments when, whatever the attitude of the body, the soul is on its knees.

Happy, even in anguish, is he to whom God has given a soul worthy of love and grief! He who has not seen the things of this world, and the hearts of men in this double light, has seen nothing, and knows nothing of truth.

A certain amount of reverie is good, like a narcotic in discreet doses. It soothes the fever, occasionally high, of the brain at work, and produces in the mind a soft, fresh vapor that corrects the all too angular contours of pure thought, fills up the gaps and intervals, binds them together, and dulls the sharp corners of ideas.

lost a bit of steam on reading this monster mainly because I’m trying to watch a bunch of horror movies before Halloween. I’m going to try to be more consistent again because it’s at a really interesting part right now. My only other exposure to les mis was the musical movie and it didn’t exactly make me fall in love with Marius but reading this book wow what a complex and lovable character.

Marius bringing a bouquet of flowers to his father’s grave when he hated his father his whole life. And oh my god his dad standing behind him at mass every sunday because that’s the closest he can get to his son while Marius thinks his dad just abandoned him. And his dad in some type of delirium when he’s dying running out into the street calling for Marius. Marius really breathed new life into this book for me

Cenobites are not idlers, nor is the recluse a do-nothing. To think of shadows is a serious thing.

Wisdom is a sacred communion. It is upon that condition that it ceases to be a sterile love of science and becomes the one and supreme method by which to rally humanity; from philosophy it is promoted to religion.

The ideal must be made air and food and drink to the human mind. It is the ideal that has the right to say, Take of it, this is my flesh, this is my blood.

“A Few Pages of History” actually means many many pages of history

I’ve slowed down in my reading not because it’s not great but it’s so intimidating that there’s more than 1000 pages left. It is so good though. I’m going to power on.

I keep crying

Man has a body that is both his burden and his temptation. He drags it along and gives into it. He ought to watch over it, keep it in bounds, repress it, and obey it only as a last resort. It may be wrong to obey even then, but if so, the fault is venial. It is a fall, but a fall onto the knees, which may end in prayer.

starting this book again for maybe the third time. I always give up but I’m going to try to see it through