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Summary
It was Aristophanes who said it first, between his hiccups. The original human nature was very different to the present. Every person had a huge head with two faces, two pairs of arms and two pairs of legs. It was Zeus' wrath that parted them in half with his thunders, only to leave those lonely, two-legged creatures to wander around for eternity, until they could find the other half that they needed to ever be at peace.
His knuckles are dried and almost bleeding from the piercing cold and it makes it harder for him to do his job, not that many people care to have their portraits or caricatures drawn that time of the year. Believing you’ll get rich as one of all the antagonistic streets artist in the crowded Place du Tertre of Montmartre during the winter, is like expecting to save the world as a member of a merry little band of activist college students.
Grantaire doesn’t fall under that category of people. For one thing he’s not naïve, he’s not the activist, he’s the cause, he’s the homeless guy all the idealists want to save and let him tell you what, he doesn't want to be saved.