Ah! my friend, for whomever is alone, without a god and without a master, the weight of time is terrible. One must then choose a master, God being out of style.
I realized then that a man who had lived only one day could easily live for a hundred years in prison. He would have enough memories to keep him from being bored
No, Father, I've a very different idea of love. And until my dying day I shall refuse to love a scheme of things in which children are put to torture.
...the play of the toughest and most lucid mind are at the same time both lavished andsquandered.
On the whole, men are more good than bad; that, however, isn't the real point. But they are more or less ignorant, and it is this that we call vice or virtue; the most incorrigible vice being that of an ignorance that fancies it knows everything and therefore claims for itself the right to kill. The soul of the murderer is blind; and there can be no true goodness nor true love without the utmost clear-sightedness.
Thus, I always began by assuming the worst; my appeal was dismissed. That meant, of course, I was to die. Sooner than others, obviously. 'But,' I reminded myself, 'it's common knowledge that life isn't worth living, anyhow.' And, on a wide view, I could see that it makes little difference whether one dies at the age of thirty or threescore and ten-- since, in either case, other men will continue living, the world will go on as before. Also, whether I died now or forty years hence, this business of dying had to be got through, inevitably.
It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear.
The world I live in is loathsome to me, but I feel one with the men who suffer in it
Tout re volutionnaire finit en oppresseur ou en he re tique. Every revolutionary ends as an oppressor or a heretic.
Utopia is that which is in contradiction with reality.
A writer cannot put himself today in service of those who make history; he is at the service of those who suffer it.
A liking for truth at any cost is a passion that spares nothing and that nothing resists. It's a vice, at times a comfort, or a selfishness.
I conceived at least one great love in my life, of which I was always the object.
What will be left of the power of example if it is proved that capital punishment has another power, and a very real one, which degrades men to the point of shame, madness, and murder?
Absurd- that is the light mind that establishes its own borders.
Every man, and for stronger reasons, every artist, wants to be recognized. So do I.
And real nobility (that of the heart) is based on scorn, courage, and profound indifference.
All modern revolutions have ended in a reinforcement of the power of the State.
In truth, I was so good at being a man, with such plenitude and simplicity, that I thought I was something of a superman.
So the thing that bothered me most was that the condemned man had to hope the machine would work the first time.
Great feelings take with them their own universe, splendid or abject.
Moreover, most people, assuming they had not altogether abandoned religious observances, or did not combine them naively with a thoroughly immoral way of living, had replace normal religious practice by more or less extravagant superstitions.
Lucifer also has died with God, and from his ashes has arisen a spiteful demon who does not even understand the object of his venture.
In default of inexhaustible happiness, eternal suffering would at least give us a destiny. But we do not even have that consolation, and our worst agonies come to an end one day.
That's the way man is, cher monsieur. He has two faces: he can't love without self-love.
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