欧宝娱乐

“These two beings, who had loved each other so exclusively, and with so touching a love, and who had lived so long for each other, were now suffering beside one another and through one another; without speaking of it, without harsh feeling, and smiling all the while.”
― Victor Hugo

“Cosette was not very timid by nature. There flowed in her veins some of the blood of the bohemian and the adventuress who runs barefoot. It will be remembered that she was more of a lark than a dove. There was a foundation of wildness and bravery in her”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“You don't control their minds, ma fifille, you control their hearts" - Cosette”
― Alys Arden, The Casquette Girls

“Slowly he took out the clothes in which, ten years beforem Cosette had left Montfermeil; first the little dress, then the black scarf, then the great heavy child's shoes Cosette could still almost have worn, so small was her foot, then the vest of very thich fustian, then the knitted petticoat, the the apron with pockets, then the wool stockings.... Then his venerable white head fell on the bed, this old stoical heart broke, his face was swallowed up, so to speak, in Cosette's clothes, and anybody who had passed along the staircase at that moment would have heard irrepressible sobbing.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“She gave anyone who saw her a sensation of April and of dawn. There was dew in her eyes. Cosette was a condensation of auroral light in womanly form.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“Never had the sky been more studded with stars and more charming, the trees more trembling, the odor of the grass more penetrating; never had the birds fallen asleep among the leaves with a sweeter noise; never had all the harmonies of universal serenity responded more thoroughly to the inward music of love; never had Marius been more captivated, more happy, more ecstatic.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“L'istinto di Cosette cercava un padre, come quello di Valjean cercava un figlio, e incontrarsi, per essi, signific貌 trovarsi; nel momento misterioso in cui le loro mani s'incontrarono, si saldarono. Quando quelle due anime si scorsero, riconobbero di essere ciascuna quel che abbisognava all'altra e s'abbracciarono strettamente.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“Il giorno in cui una donna che vi passa davanti sprigiona luce camminando, siete perduto, amate. Non vi rimane da far altro che una cosa: pensare a lei cos矛 intensamente da costringerla a pensare a voi.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“She appeared to him more beautiful than he had ever seen her yet. Beautiful with a beauty which was wholly feminine and angelic, with a complete beauty which would have made Petrarch sing and Dante kneel. [...]”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables.

“The gamin Gavroche puts in a strong plea for mercy, and his sister Eponine, if Hugo had chosen to take more trouble with her, might have been a great, and is actually the most interesting, character. But Cosette鈥攖he cosseted Cosette鈥擧ugo did not know our word or he would have seen the danger鈥攊s merely a pretty and rather selfish little doll, and her precious lover Marius is almost ineffable.”
― George Saintsbury

“He went straight to 鈥榟is alley,鈥� and when he reached the
end of it he perceived, still on the same bench, that wellknown
couple. Only, when he approached, it certainly was
the same man; but it seemed to him that it was no longer the
same girl. The person whom he now beheld was a tall and
beautiful creature, possessed of all the most charming lines
of a woman at the precise moment when they are still combined
with all the most ingenuous graces of the child; a pure
and fugitive moment, which can be expressed only by these
two words,鈥� 鈥榝ifteen years.鈥� She had wonderful brown hair,
shaded with threads of gold, a brow that seemed made of
marble, cheeks that seemed made of rose-leaf, a pale flush,
an agitated whiteness, an exquisite mouth, whence smiles
darted like sunbeams, and words like music, a head such
as Raphael would have given to Mary, set upon a neck that
Jean Goujon would have attributed to a Venus. And, in order
that nothing might be lacking to this bewitching face,
her nose was not handsome鈥� it was pretty; neither straight
nor curved, neither Italian nor Greek; it was the Parisian
nose, that is to say, spiritual, delicate, irregular, pure,鈥�
which drives painters to despair, and charms poets.
When Marius passed near her, he could not see her eyes,
which were constantly lowered. He saw only her long chestnut
lashes, permeated with shadow and modesty.
This did not prevent the beautiful child from smiling as
she listened to what the white-haired old man was saying to
her, and nothing could be more fascinating than that fresh
smile, combined with those drooping eyes.
For a moment, Marius thought that she was another
daughter of the same man, a sister of the former, no doubt.
But when the invariable habit of his stroll brought him, for
the second time, near the bench, and he had examined her
attentively, he recognized her as the same. In six months the
little girl had become a young maiden; that was all. Nothing
is more frequent than this phenomenon. There is a moment
when girls blossom out in the twinkling of an eye, and become
roses all at once. One left them children but yesterday;
today, one finds them disquieting to the feelings.

This child had not only grown, she had become idealized.
As three days in April suffice to cover certain trees
with flowers, six months had sufficed to clothe her with
beauty. Her April had arrived.

One sometimes sees people, who, poor and mean, seem
to wake up, pass suddenly from indigence to luxury, indulge
in expenditures of all sorts, and become dazzling, prodigal,
magnificent, all of a sudden. That is the result of having
pocketed an income; a note fell due yesterday. The young
girl had received her quarterly income.
And then, she was no longer the school-girl with her felt
hat, her merino gown, her scholar鈥檚 shoes, and red hands;
taste had come to her with beauty; she was a well-dressed
person, clad with a sort of rich and simple elegance, and
without affectation. She wore a dress of black damask, a
cape of the same material, and a bonnet of white crape. Her
white gloves displayed the delicacy of the hand which toyed
with the carved, Chinese ivory handle of a parasol, and her
silken shoe outlined the smallness of her foot. When one
passed near her, her whole toilette exhaled a youthful and
penetrating perfume.”
― hugo

“He wondered if all this happiness really belonged to him, if it was not made up of someone else's happiness--this child's happiness which he in his old age was confiscating and appropriating--and if this was not robbery. He told himself, this child had a right to experience life before renouncing it, that to deprive her in advance of all the joys of life, and to some extent without consulting her, under the pretext of sparing her from all its tribulations, to take advantage of her ignorance and her isolation in order to foster in her a spurious vocation, was to pervert the nature of a human being and to lie to God. And who knows if Cosette, understanding all this some day and wishing she had not become a nun, would not come to hate him? A last thought, this; almost selfish and less heroic than the others, but one that was intolerable to him. He decided to leave the convent.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Mis茅rables

“What he had just seen was no longer the ingenuous and
simple eye of a child; it was a mysterious gulf which had half
opened, then abruptly closed again.
There comes a day when the young girl glances in this
manner. Woe to him who chances to be there!
That first gaze of a soul which does not, as yet, know
itself, is like the dawn in the sky. It is the awakening of something
radiant and strange. Nothing can give any idea of the
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dangerous charm of that unexpected gleam, which flashes
suddenly and vaguely forth from adorable shadows, and
which is composed of all the innocence of the present, and
of all the passion of the future. It is a sort of undecided tenderness
which reveals itself by chance, and which waits. It is
a snare which the innocent maiden sets unknown to herself,
and in which she captures hearts without either wishing or
knowing it. It is a virgin looking like a woman.
It is rare that a profound revery does not spring from that
glance, where it falls. All purities and all candors meet in
that celestial and fatal gleam which, more than all the bestplanned
tender glances of coquettes, possesses the magic
power of causing the sudden blossoming, in the depths of
the soul, of that sombre flower, impregnated with perfume
and with poison, which is called love.”
― Hugo

“The joy which we inspire has this charming property, that, far from growing meagre, like all reflections, it returns to us more radiant than ever.”
― Victor Hugo

“Su felicidad era la meta de mi vida. Ahora ya puede Dios firmar mi hoja de salida. Cosette, eres feliz; ya he cumplido mi tiempo.”
― Victor Hugo, Les Miserables volume 1-2