Everything turns on pain; the rest is accessory, even nonexistent, for we remember only what hurts. Painful sensations being the only real ones, it is virtually useless to experience others.
It is an understatement to say that in this society injustices abound: in truth, it is itself the quintessence of injustice.
To claim you are more detached, more alien to everything than anyone, and to be merely a fanatic of indifference!
My enthusiasms...constitute my reserves, my unexploited resources, perhaps my future.
We define only out of despair, we must have a formula... to give a facade tot he void.
In a republic, that paradise of debility, the politician is a petty tyrant who obeys the laws.
I lost my sleep, and this is the greatest tragedy that can befall someone. It is much worse than sitting in prison.
It has been a long time since philosophers have read men's souls. It is not their task, we are told. Perhaps. But we must not be surprised if they no longer matter much to us.
The fear of being deceived is the vulgar version of the quest for Truth.
No one can enjoy freedom without trembling.
I saw that philosophy had no power to make my life more bearable. Thus I lost my belief in philosophy.
All great ideas should be followed by an exclamation mark - a warning signal similar to the skull and crossbones drawn on high-voltage transformers.
Utopia is the grotesque en rose, the need to associate happiness - that is, the improbable - with becoming, and to coerce an optimistic, aerial vision to the point where it rejoins its own source: the very cynicism it sought to combat. In short, a monstrous fantasy.
In the hours without sleep, each moment is so full and so vacant that it suggests itself as a rival of Time.
Philosophy: Impersonal anxiety; refuge among anemic ideas.
Every profound dissatisfaction is of a religious nature: our failures derive from our incapacity to conceive of paradise and to aspire to it, as our discomforts from the fragility of our relations with the absolute.
I foresee the day when we shall read nothing but telegrams and prayers.
Read day and night, devour books - these sleeping pills - not to know but to forget! Through books you can retrace your way back to the origins of spleen, discarding history and its illusions.
the deepest subjective experiences are also the most universal, because through them one reaches the universal source of life.
Great persecutors are recruited among martyrs whose heads haven't been cut off.
Word - that invisible dagger.
Maniacs of Procreation, bipeds with devalued faces, we have lost all appeal for each other.
The task of the solitary man is to be even more solitary.
Tragic paradox of freedom: the mediocre men who alone make its exercise possible cannot guarantee its duration.
Mind, even more deadly to empires than to individuals, erodes them, compromises their solidity.
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