I Write With One Hand, But I

A Few Feet Under The Ground Reigns So Profound A Silence, And Yet So Much Tumult On The Surface!

Need Is A Low Door Which, When We Must By Stern Necessity Pass Through, Forces The Greatest To Bend Down The Most.

That Is The Explanation Of War, An Outrage By Humanity Upon Humanity In Despite Of Humanity.

Strong And Bitter Words Indicate A Weak Cause.

Joie Est Mon Caractere, C'est La Faute A Voltaire; Misere Est Mon Trousseau C'est La Faute A Rousseau. [joy Is My Character, 'tis The Fault Of Voltaire; Misery Is My Trousseau 'tis The Fault Of Rousseau.] - Gavroche