But there is in every man a profound instinct which is neither that of destruction nor that of creation. It is merely a matter of resembling nothing. — Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays. Published 1942 (Éditions Gallimard, in French),1955 (Hamish Hamilton, in English)
Thus each of us had to be content to live only for the day, alone under the vast indifference of the sky. — Albert Camus, The Plague. (Vintage, May 7, 1991) Originally published June 1947.
Opt for privacy and solitude. That doesn’t make you antisocial or cause you to reject the rest of the world. But you need to breathe. And you need to be. — Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959. (Ivan R. Dee; First Edition U.S. edition, April 2, 2008) Originally published 1989. Write
It is not the melancholy of ruined things that breaks the heart, but the desperate love of what lasts eternally in eternal youth: love of the future. — Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959 (Ivan R. Dee Publisher, 2008; first published 1989)
There is not love of life without despair about life. ― Albert Camus, The Stranger. . (Vintage, March 13, 1989) Originally published 1942.
I am too often continuously lonely, having nothing to articulate, defend, expose, or even occasionally justify. — Albert Camus, Notebooks 1951-1959 (Ivan R. Dee Publisher, 2008; first published 1989)
Words that come from the heart are always simple. — Albert Camus, The Misunderstanding. ( 1943)