In after times, when… ~ Victor Hugo
While we are living in our native land, we fancy that these streets are indifferent to us,
that these windows, these roofs, and these doors are nothing to us,
that these walls are strangers to us,
that these trees are no more other trees,
that these houses which we never enter are useless to us, that this pavement on which we walk is nothing but stone.
In after times, when we are there no longer, we find that those streets are very dear,
that we miss those roofs, those windows, and those doors,
that those walls are necessary to us,
that those trees are our well-beloved,
that those houses which we never entered we entered every day
and that we have left something of our affection, our life, and our heart in those streets.
~ Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
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