"Often we pass beside happiness without seeing it, without looking at it, or even if we have seen and looked at it, without recognizing it."
The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (via 2dayiamfree)
“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And wisdom to know the difference.”
— Reinhold Niebuhr
all i see is grantaire whispering this every night when he falls asleep and trying to calm himself down by whispering it through his tears when he has panic attacks about enjolras and getting it tattooed on his wrists and oh my god this makes me so sad now
“I would give anything to be in your margins,” Grantaire continues. “Because—minor characters, we don’t need to be anything. We can be defined by whatever the main character is. And that—I am completely okay with that, Enjolras. I don’t need to be anything except the brat on the edge of the pages.” (x)
okay, that’s basically my favorite part of novelesque diary but I can’t draw srsly emotional stuff, so this looks more like domestic e/r with r being a bit too distracted to do his whole writing in the margins of books thing (or maybe he’s already filled the pages up with how distracting enjolras’ mere presence is and there are doodles of enjolras on every page, idek.)
(all i know is that this was a unfinished for two weeks or something and i didn’t completely fuck it up now, so I’m actually quite proud haha)
Bahorel was a creature of good humour and bad company, brave, a spendthrift, prodigal almost to the point of generosity, talkative almost to eloquence, bold almost to insolence; the best possible stock for the devil … enjoying nothing so much as a quarrel unless it were a riot.
Victor Hugo, Les Misérables (via punktaire)
Il y a des hommes qui semblent nés pour être le verso, l’envers, le revers. Ils sont Pollux, Patrocle, Nisus, Eudamidas, Ephestion, Pechméja. Ils ne vivent qu’à la condition d’être adossés à un autre; leur nom est une suite, et ne s’écrit que précédé de la conjonction et; leur existence ne leur est pas propre; elle est l’autre côté d’une destinée qui n’est pas la leur. Grantaire était un de ces hommes. Il était l’envers d’Enjolras.
There are men who seem to be born to be the reverse, the obverse, the wrong side. They are Pollux, Patrocles, Nisus, Eudamidas, Ephestion, Pechmeja. They only exist on condition that they are backed up with another man; their name is a sequel, and is only written preceded by the conjunction and; and their existence is not their own; it is the other side of an existence which is not theirs. Grantaire was one of these men. He was the obverse of Enjolras.
I shouldn’t be alive unless it was for a reason. I’m not crazy, Pepper. I just finally know what I have to do. And I know in my heart that it’s right.
I want a trouble-maker for a lover, blood spiller, blood drinker, a heart of flame, who quarrels with the sky and fights with fate, who burns like fire on the rushing sea.