Albert Camus Quotes
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Un homme se définit aussi bien par ses comédies que par ses élans sincères.1
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It is immoral not to tell.
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He who despairs of the human condition is a coward, but he who has hope for it is a fool.
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Every artist preserves deep within him a single source from which, throughout his lifetime, he draws what he is, and what he says. When the source dries up, the work withers and crumbles.
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But it's not easy. I've been thinking it over for years. While we loved each other we didn't need words to make ourselves understood. But people don't love forever. A time came when I should have found the words to keep her with me, only I couldn't.
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There are crimes of passion and crimes of logic. The boundary between them is not clearly defined.
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But - I cannot make a choice. I have my own sorrow, but I suffer with him, too; I share his pain. I understand all - that is my trouble.
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... man has an idea of a better world than this. But better does not mean different, it means unified... Religion or crime, every human endeavor in fact, finally obeys this unreasonabledesire and claims to give life a form it does not have.
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Wandering seemed no more than the happiness of an anxious man.
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Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.
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We're going forward, but nothing changes.
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Working conditions for me have always been those of the monastic life: solitude and frugality. Except for frugality, they are contrary to my nature, so much so that work is a violence I do to myself.
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Moreover, most people, assuming they had not altogether abandoned religious observances, or did not combine them naively with a thoroughly immoral way of living, had replace normal religious practice by more or less extravagant superstitions.
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It is natural to give a clear view of the world after accepting the idea that it must be clear.
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Even when one sits in the prisoner's dock, it is interesting to hear talk about oneself.
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Forever I shall be a stranger to myself. In psychology as in logic, there are truths but no truth.
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Integrity has no need of rules.
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When love ceases to be tragic it is something else and the individual again throws himself in search of tragedy.
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All great deeds and all great thoughts have a ridiculous beginning. Great works are often born on a street corner or in a restaurant's revolving door.
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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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Why should it be essential to love rarely in order to love much?
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I have not stopped loving that which is sacred in this world.
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I don't want to be a genius-I have enough problems just trying to be a man.
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The look of success, when it is worn a certain way, would infuriate a jackass.