At that moment of his existence when a man needs his pride, because he needs love, he felt that he was jeered at because he was badly dressed, and ridiculous because he was poor. Marius learned how all this is eaten, and how such are often the only things which one has to devour.
A terrible thing it is, containing days without bread, nights without sleep, evenings without a candle, a hearth without a fire, weeks without work, a future without hope, a coat out at the elbows, an old hat which evokes the laughter of young girls, a door which one finds locked on one at night because oneâs rent is not paid, the insolence of the porter and the cook-shop man, the sneers of neighbors, humiliations, dignity trampled on, work of whatever nature accepted, disgusts, bitterness, despondency. He ate of that terrible, inexpressible thing that is called de la vache enragé that is to say, he endured great hardships and privations. It was nothing to eat his clothes and his watch.
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