“I was dying when you came.”

“You were right to come to see a dying man. It is right that these moments should have witnesses. Everyone has his dream; I would like to live till dawn, but I know I have less than three hours left. It will be night, but no matter. Dying is simple. It does not take daylight. So be it: I will die by starlight”

“Now for my pains, promise me-“And she hesitated.“What?” asked Marius.“Promise me!”“I promise you.”“Promise to kiss me on the forehead when I’m dead. I’ll feel it.”She let her head fall back on Marius’s knees and her eyelids closed. He thought the poor soul had gone. Eponine lay motionless, but just when Marius supposed her forever asleep, she slowly opened her eyes, revealing the somber depths of death, and said to him in an accent whose sweetness already seemed to come from another world, “And then, do you know, Monsieur Marius, I believe I was a little in love with you.”She tried to smile again and died.”

“You who suffer because you love, love still more. To die of love, is to live by it.”

“When I speak to you about myself, I’m speaking to you about yourself. How is it that you don’t see that?”

“Don't you recognize me?''No.''Eponine.'Marius bent hastily forward and saw that it was indeed that unhappy girl, clad in a man's clothes.'How do you come to be here? What are you doing?''I'm dying,' she said.There are words and happenings which arouse even souls in the depths of despair. Marius cried, as though starting out of sleep:'You're wounded! I'll carry you into the tavern. They'll dress your wound. Is it very bad? How am I to lift you without hurting you? Help, someone! But what are you doing here?'He tried to get an arm underneath her to raise her up, and in doing so touched her hand. She uttered a weak cry.'Did I hurt you?''A little.''But I only touched your hand.'She lifted her hand for him to see, and he saw a hole in the centre of the palm.'What happened?' he asked.'A bullet went through it.''A bullet? But how?''Don't you remember a musket being aimed at you?''Yes, and a hand was clapped over it.''That was mine.'Marius shuddered.'What madness! Your poor child! Still, if that's all, it might be worse. I'll get you to a bed and they'll bind you up. One doesn't die of a wounded hand.'She murmured:'The ball passed through my hand, but it came out through my back. It's no use trying to move me. I'll tell you how you can treat my wound better than any surgeon. Sit down on that stone, close beside me.'Marius did so. She rested her head on his knee and said without looking at him:'Oh, what happiness! What bliss! Now I don't feel any pain.”

“He sleeps although so much he was denied. He lived and when his dear love left him died. It happened of itself, in the easy way that in the morning night time follows day”