In normal times all of us know, whether consciously or not, that there is no love which can’t be bettered; nevertheless, we reconcile ourselves more or less easily to the fact that ours has never risen above the average.
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
Should I kill myself, or have a cup of coffee?
But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.
Life should be lived to the point of tears.
One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
There is no frontier between being and appearing.
We must learn how to lend ourselves to dreaming when dreams lend themselves to us.
A profound thought is in a constant state of becoming; it adopts the experience of a life and assumes its shape.
On good days, if you trust life, life has to answer you.
To create is likewise to give a shape to one’s fate.
No human being, even the most passionately loved and passionately loving, is ever in our possession.
Thus each of us had to be content to live only for the day, alone under the vast indifference of the sky.
In every rebellion is to be found the metaphysical demand for unity, the impossibility of capturing it, and the construction of a substitute universe.
Metaphysical rebellion is a claim, motivated by the concept of a complete unity, against the suffering of life and death and a protest against the human condition both for its incompleteness, thanks to death, and its wastefulness, thanks to evil.
Real fulfillment, for the man who allows absolutely free rein to his desires, and who much dominate everything, lies in hatred.
The most elementary form of rebellion, paradoxically, expresses an aspiration for order .
What must be remembered in any case is that secret complicity that joins the logical and the everyday to the tragic.
No one who lives in the sunlight of gratitude that things aren’t worse makes a failure of his or her life.
But – I cannot make a choice. I have my own sorrow, but I suffer with him, too; I share his pain. I understand all – that is my trouble.
When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune.