Love is a mystery.
A little friend of mine down in the country, at Auvergne, said to me one day: “Victor, Love is the world,—it contains everything.”
She was only sixteen, this sharp-witted little girl, and a beautiful blonde. She thought everything of me.
Fantine was one of those women who do wrong in the most virtuous and touching manner. This is a peculiarity of French grisettes.
You are an Englishman, and you don’t understand. Learn, my friend, learn. Come to Paris and improve your morals.
Fantine was the soul of modesty. She always wore high-neck dresses. High-neck dresses are a sign of modesty.
Fantine loved Tholmoyes. Why? My God! What are you to do? It was the fault of her parents, and she hadn’t any. How shall you teach her? You must teach the parent if you wish to educate the child. How would you become virtuous?
Teach your grandmother!
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg