Are you what is called a lucky man? Well, you are sad every day. Each day has its great grief or its little care. Yesterday you were trembling for the health of one who is dear to you, today you fear for your own; tomorrow it will be anxiety about money, the next day the slanders of a caluminator, the day after the misfortune of a friend; then the weather, then something broken or lost, then a pleasure for which you are reproached by your conscience or your vertebral column; another time, the course of public affairs. Not to mention heartaches. And so on. One cloud is dissipated, another gathers. Hardly one day in a hundred of unbroken joy and sunshine. And you are of that small number who are lucky! As for other men, stagnant night is upon them...
The true division of humanity is this: the luminous and the dark.
- Victor Hugo, Les Miserables
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3 comments:
Le sigh
I can't believe Hugo had a romance for fifty years and wrote her dix-huit mille letters for every day of it. So romantic...except for the part where his wife was someone ELSE.
WHAT.
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