Albert Camus Quotes
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Here lives a free man. Nobody serves him.
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To feel absolutely right is the beginning of the end.
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Absurdism, like methodical doubt, has wiped the slate clean. It leaves us in a blind alley. But, like methodical doubt, it can, by returning upon itself, open up a new field of investigation, and in the process of reasoning then pursues the same course. I proclaim that I believe in nothing and that everything is absurd, but I cannot doubt the validity of my proclamation and I must at least believe in my protest.
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Travel, which is like a greater and a graver science, brings us back to ourselves.
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Every authentic work of art is a gift offered to the future.
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Can one be a saint if God does not exist? That is the only concrete problem I know of today.
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Everyone would like to behave like a pagan, with everyone else behaving like a Christian.
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Still, obviously, one can't be sensible all the time.
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A régime Nazism which invented a biological foreign policy was obviously acting against its own best interests. But at least it obeyed its own particular logic.
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The absurd is essentially a divorce. It lies in neither of the elements compared; it is born of their confrontation.
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Beware of those who say: "I know this too well to be able to express it." For if they cannot do so, this is because they don't know it or because out of laziness they stopped at the outer crust.
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The more I accuse myself, the more right I have to judge you. Even better, I make you judge yourself, which comforts me the more.
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Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.
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What would become of the world if the condemned started to confide their heartaches to the executioners?
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The absurd is sin without God.
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And never have I felt so deeply at one and the same time so detached from myself and so present in the world.
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No doubt our love was still there, but quite simply it was unusable, heavy to carry, inert inside of us, sterile as crime or condemnation. It was no longer anything except a patience with no future and a stubborn wait.
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There are some individuals who have too strong a craving, a will, and a nostalgia for happiness ever to reach it. They always retain a bitter and passionate aftertaste, and that's the best they can hope for.
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The certainty of a God giving meaning to life far surpasses in attractiveness the ability to behave badly with impunity. The choice would not be hard to make. But there is no choice and that is where the bitterness comes in. The absurd does not liberate; it binds.
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I feel like getting married, or committing suicide, or subscribing to L'Illustration. Something desperate, you know.
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But too many people now climb onto the cross merely to be seen from a greater distance, even if they have to trample somewhat on the one who has been there so long.
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At the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman, and these hills, the softness of the sky, the outline of these trees at this very minute lose the illusory meaning with which we had clothed them, henceforth more remote than a lost paradise . . . that denseness and that strangeness of the world is absurd.
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Without freedom, no art; art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself, and dies of all others.
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The main thing is that everything become simple, easy enough for a child to understand.