When every man has realized that his birth is a defeat, existence, endurable at last, will seem like the day after a surrender, like the relief and the repose of the conquered.
I live only because it is in my power to die when I choose to: without the idea of suicide, I'd have killed myself right away.
After having struggled madly to solve all problems, after having suffered on the heights of despair, in the supreme hour of revelation, you will find that the only answer, the only reality, is silence.
My mission is to kill time, and time's to kill me in its turn. How comfortable one is among murderers.
The more one has suffered, the less one demands. To protest is a sign one has traversed no hell.
To hope is to contradict the future.
What do you do from morning to night?" "I endure myself.
Old age, after all, is merely the punishment for having lived.
Only optimists commit suicide, optimists who no longer succeed at being optimists. The others, having no reason to live, why would they have any to die?
I feel completely detached from any country, any group. I am a metaphysically displaced person
If we could see ourselves as others see us, we would vanish on the spot.
Better to be an animal than a man, an insect than an animal, a plant than an insect, and so on. Salvation? Whatever diminishes the kingdom of consciousness and compromises its supremacy.
No matter which way we go, it is no better than any other. It is all the same whether you achieve something or not, have faith or not, just as it is all the same whether you cry or remain silent.
Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.
I don’t understand why we must do things in this world, why we must have friends and aspirations, hopes and dreams. Wouldn’t it be better to retreat to a faraway corner of the world, where all its noise and complications would be heard no more? Then we could renounce culture and ambitions; we would lose everything and gain nothing; for what is there to be gained from this world?
Trees are massacred, houses go up — faces, faces everywhere. Man is spreading. Man is the cancer of the earth.
It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.
The sole means of protecting your solitude is to offend everyone, beginning with those you love.
As far as I am concerned, I resign from humanity. I no longer want to be, nor can still be, a man. What should I do? Work for a social and political system, make a girl miserable? Hunt for weaknesses in philosophical systems, fight for moral and esthetic ideals? It’s all too little. I renounce my humanity even though I may find myself alone. But am I not already alone in this world from which I no longer expect anything?
Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because there is no way of doing without them.
The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.
By all evidence we are in the world to do nothing.
Chaos is rejecting all you have learned, chaos is being yourself.
Only those moments count, when the desire to remain by yourself is so powerful that you'd prefer to blow your brains out than exchange a word with someone.
The only way of enduring one disaster after the next is to love the very idea of disaster: if we succeed, there are no further surprises, we are superior to whatever occurs, we are invincible victims.
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