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A regret understood by no one: the regret to be a pessimist. It’s not easy to be on the wrong foot with life
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What does the future, that half of time, matter to the man who is infatuated with eternity?
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Who does not believe in Fate proves that he has not lived.
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If death is as horrible as is claimed, how is it that after the passage of a certain period of time we consider happy any being, friend or enemy, who has ceased to live?
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Obviously God was a solution, and obviously none so satisfactory that will ever be found again.
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I thought that the only action a man could perform without shame was to take his life; that he had no right to diminish himself in the succession of days and the inertic of misery. No elect, I kept telling myself, but those who committed suicide.
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To suffer is to produce knowledge.
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Saints live in flames; wise men, next to them.
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To repeat to yourself a thousand times a day: 'Nothing on Earth has any worth,' to keep finding yourself at the same point, to circle stupidly as a top, eternally...
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The world begins and ends with us. Only our consciousness exists, it is everything, and this everything vanishes with it. Dying, we leave nothing. Then why so much fuss around an event that is no such thing?
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I get along quite well with someone only when he is at his lowest point and has neither the desire nor the strength to restore his habitual illusions.
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Intelligence flourishes only in the ages when belief withers.
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For a writer, to change languages is to write a love letter with a dictionary.
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There is no false sensation.
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What I know wreaks havoc upon what I want.
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What every man who loves his country hopes for in his inmost heart: the suppression of half his compatriots.
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To suffer is the great modality of taking the world seriously.
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Every thought derives from a thwarted sensation.
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Consciousness is nature's nightmare.
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The state of health is a state of nonsensation, even of nonreality. As soon as we cease to suffer, we cease to exist.
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…all of the philosophers put together are not worth a single saint.
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Man is fulfilled only when he ceases to be man.
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The universal view melts things into a blur.
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A word, once dissected, no longer signifies anything, is nothing. Like a body that, after an autopsy, is less than a corpse.