When Javert laughed,—and his laugh was rare and terrible,—his thin lips parted and revealed to view not only his teeth, but his gums, and around his nose there formed a flattened and savage fold, as on the muzzle of a wild beast. Javert, serious, was a watchdog; when he laughed, he was a tiger.
She’s so lucky, she’s a star But she cry, cry, cries in her lonely heart, thinking If there’s nothing missing in my life Then why do these tears come at night