History is nothing but a procession of false Absolutes, a series of temples raised to pretexts, a degradation of the mind before the Improbable.
By all evidence we are in the world to do nothing; but instead of nonchalantly promenading our own corruption, we exude our sweat and grow winded upon the fetid air.
To live entirely without a goal! I have glimpsed this state, and have often attained it, without managing to remain there: I am too weak for such happiness.
In most cases we attach ourselves to in order to take revenge on life, to punish it, to signify we can do without it, that we have found something better, and we also attach ourselves to God in horror of men.
We would not be interested in human beings if we did not have the hope of someday meeting someone worse off than ourselves.
Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!
We are born to exist, not to know, to be, not to assert ourselves.
We derive our vitality from our store of madness.
The only free mind is one that, pure of all intimacy with beings or objects, plies its own vacuity.
All that shimmers on the surface of the world, all that we call interesting, is the fruit of ignorance and inebriation.
The curtain of the universe is moth-eaten, and through its holes we see nothing now but mask and ghost.
To live in any true sense of the word is to reject others; to accept them, one must be able to renounce, to do oneself violence, to act against one's own nature, to weaken oneself; we conceive freedom only for ourselves - we extend it to our neighbours only at the cost of exhausting efforts; whence the precariousness of liberalism, a defiance of our instincts, a brief and miraculous success, a state of exception, at the antipodes of our deepest imperatives.
The multiplication of our kind borders on the obscene; the duty to love them, on the preposterous.
What does the future, that half of time, matter to the man who is infatuated with eternity?
I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.
A distant enemy is always preferable to one at the gate.
I don’t understand how people can believe in God, even when I myself think of him everyday.
No position is so false as having understood and still remaining alive.
When you have understood that nothing is, that things do not even deserve the status of appearances, you no longer need to be saved, you are saved, and miserable forever.
To read is to let someone else work for you - the most delicate form of exploitation.
True confessions are written with tears only. But my tears would drown the world, as my inner fire would reduce it to ashes.
As the years pass, the number of those we can communicate with diminishes. When there is no longer anyone to talk to, at last we will be as we were before stooping to a name.
Show me one thing here on earth which has begun well and not ended badly. The proudest palpitations are engulfed in a sewer, where they cease throbbing, as though having reached their natural term: this downfall constitutes the heart's drama and the negative meaning of history.
Wherever we go, we come up against the human, a repulsive ubiquity before which we fall into stupor and revolt, a perplexity on fire.
If I were to be totally sincere, I would say that I do not know why I live and why I do not stop living. The answer probably lies in the irrational character of life which maintains itself without reason.
Follow AzQuotes on Facebook, Twitter and Google+. Every day we present the best quotes! Improve yourself, find your inspiration, share with friends
or simply: