When the soul suffers too much, it develops a taste for misfortune. — Albert Camus
There is something divine in mindless beauty. ― Albert Camus, A Happy Death. (Penguin Books, Limited (UK) February 28, 2002) Originally published 1971.
Yes, we have lost track of the light, the mornings, the holy innocence of those who forgive themselves. — Albert Camus, The Fall (Vintage Books, 1957)
I like people who dream or talk to themselves interminably; I like them, for they are double. They are here and elsewhere. — Albert Camus, The Fall. (Vintage Books May 7, 1991) Originally published 1956.
Out of long nails I weld limbs for my new body. Out of old rags, my entrails. A coat of carrion will be my coat of solitude. I pluck my eye from the depths of the marsh. Out of the devoured plates of disgust I will build my hut. My world will be a world… Continue reading Tomaž Šalamun
Killing yourself amounts to confessing. It is confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it… It is merely confessing that it ‘is not worth the trouble.’ Living, naturally, is never easy. You continue making the gestures commanded by existence for many reasons, the first of which is habit.… Continue reading Albert Camus
They made love in the dark by feel, without seeing each other. Is there another love than that of darkness, a love that would cry aloud in daylight? — Albert Camus, The Adulterous Woman. (Penguin 2011) Originally published 1957.