Victor Hugo. Notre Dame Cathedral (№ 156550)

Quasimodo stopped under the arch of the main portal. His large feet seemed as firmly rooted in the stone tiles of the floor as the heavy Romanesque pillars. Its huge shaggy head was deeply gone into the shoulders, like a lion head, a long mane which is also not visible neck. He kept flapping in the wind a girl hanging on his rough hands like white fabric, was kept as carefully as if he feared to break her or crush. It seemed that he felt that it was something fragile, delicate, precious, was not created to his hands. The minute he dared to touch her even breathing. And suddenly strongly pressed her to his angular bosom, as his property, as their treasure... <...> the Sight of the Cyclops, bowed to the girl, it was wrapped around her tenderness, sorrow and pity, then suddenly rose up, full of fire. And then the women laughed and wept, the crowd was in a frenzy of delight, for in these moments... Quasimodo was truly beautiful. He was beautiful, this orphan, a foundling, it's trash; he felt Grand and powerful, he looked in the face of this society, which expelled him, but in the Affairs of which he had so powerfully intervened; staring in the face of this human justice, whose snatched the booty, all these tigers who just had to chatter, the bailiffs, judges and executioners, all that Royal power which he, miserable, broke with the help of Almighty God.