The light of memory, or rather the light that memory lends to things, is the palest light of all…I am not quite sure whether I am dreaming or remembering, whether I have lived my life or dreamed it. Just as dreams do, memory makes me profoundly aware of the unreality, the evanescence of the world,… Continue reading Eugène Ionesco
[P]hilosophy is the art of masking inner torments. — Emil M. Cioran, On the Heights of Despair. (University Of Chicago Press,1996) Originally published 1933.
Tell me how you want to die, and I’ll tell you who you are. ― Emil M. Cioran, Tears and Saints. (University of Chicago Press; Reprint edition, July 6, 1998) Originally published 1937.
I have tried to be faithful to my knowledge, to force my instincts to yield, and realized that it is no use wielding the weapons of nothingness if you cannot turn them against yourself. — Emil M. Cioran, “Cosmogony of Desire,” A Short History of Decay. (Arcade Publishing; 1st Arcade paperback ed edition September 15,… Continue reading Emil M. Cioran
Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home? ― Emil M. Cioran, Tears and Saints. (University of Chicago Press; Reprint edition, July 6, 1998) Originally published 1937.
Despair is the state in which anxiety and restlessness are immanent to existence. Nobody in despair suffers from “problems”, but from his own inner torment and fire. It’s a pity that nothing can be solved in this world. Yet there never was and there never will be anyone who would commit suicide for this reason.… Continue reading Emil M. Cioran
I am the beast with a contorted grin, contracting down to illusion and dilating toward infinity, both growing and dying, delightfully suspended between hope for nothing and despair of everything, brought up among perfumes and poisons, consumed with love and hatred, killed by lights and shadows. My symbol is death of light and the flame… Continue reading Emil M. Cioran