[ Violence had always been anticipated. They had defended themselves against it with a barricade, armed themselves with pistols and muskets. Everyone involved knew what to expect, including Grantaire: a man who didn’t help to build the barricade and never armed himself.

Was there ever another way? He sat in on meetings for months, listening as his friends essentially planned out their deaths. They believed so vehemently in their cause. If there was another way, Grantaire never saw it, and it seemed as though his friends never did either. ]

No revolution at all, perhaps. If they had choked upon their own impassioned voices and stayed home instead, that might have saved them. As I recall, the weather was terrible. Joly was ill already, and some smaller misfortune would have fallen Bossuet regardless--a lost hat or a hole in his jacket.

[ No revolution is not an alternative at all, of course. One word with Enjolras says more than enough regarding that, but Grantaire clearly cared deeply for his friends and wishes they had not met the fates that befell them. He sighs. ]

No. They loved France. What other alternative might there have been?