#misedit

Les Miserables edit: (6/?)Favourite performers: Lea Salonga

Les Miserables edit: (5/?)Favourite performers: Katie Hall

At the end of the day there's another day dawning And the sun in the morning is waiting to rise Like the waves crash on the sand Like a storm that'll break any second

You, at the barricade, listen to this: the people of Paris sleep in their beds you have no chance, no chance at all why throw your lives away?

Among all these glowing hearts and thoroughly convinced minds, there was one sceptic. How came he there? By juxtaposition. This sceptic's name was Grantaire, and he was in the habit of signing himself with this rebus: R. Grantaire was a man who took good care not to believe in anything.

Jean Prouvaire was in love; he cultivated a pot of flowers, played on the flute, made verses, loved the people, pitied woman, wept over the child, confounded God and the future in the same confidence, and blamed the Revolution for having caused the fall of a royal head, that of Andre Chenier. His voice was ordinarily delicate, but suddenly grew manly.

Combeferre was as gentle as Enjolras was severe, through natural whiteness. He loved the word citizen, but he preferred the word man. He would gladly have said: Hombre, like the Spanish.

Joly was the "malade imaginaire" junior. What he had won in medicine was to be more of an invalid than a doctor. At three and twenty he thought himself a valetudinarian, and passed his life in inspecting his tongue in the mirror.