Albert Camus Quotes
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We are rebels for a cause, poets with a dream , and we won't let this world die without a fight.
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Likewise, every time somebody interjects to speak of my honesty there is someone who quivers inside me.
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Likewise and during every day of an unillustrious life, time carries us. But a moment always comes when we have to carry it.
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I realized then that a man who had lived only one day could easily live for a hundred years in prison. He would have enough memories to keep him from being bored.
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They hurt each other without wanting to, just because each represented to the others the cruel and demanding necessity of their lives.
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The absurd is sin without God.
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The harshest winter finds an invincible summer in us.
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At that moment he knew what his mother was thinking, and that she loved him. But he knew, too, that to love someone means relatively little; or, rather, that love is never strong enough to find the words befitting it. Thus he and his mother would always love each other silently. And one day she – or he – would die, without ever, all their lives long, having gone farther than this by way of making their affection known.
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That's love, giving everything, sacrificing all without hope of return.
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If we believe in nothing, if nothing has any meaning and if we can affirm no values whatsoever, then everything is possible and nothing has any importance.
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Blessed are the hearts that can bend; they shall never be broken.
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Paneloux is a man of learning, a scholar. He hasn't come in contact with death; that's why he can speak with such assurance of the truth-with a capital T. But every country priest who visits his parishioners and has heard a man gasping for breath on his deathbed thinks as I do. He'd try to relieve human suffering before trying to point out its goodness.
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Freedom is not constituted primarily of privileges but of responsibilities.
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In short, they were gambling on their luck, and luck is not to be coerced.
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Every authentic work of art is a gift offered to the future.
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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 work of art is born of the intelligence's refusal to reason the concrete. It marks the triumph of the carnal.
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Methods of thought which claim to give the lead to our world in the name of revolution have become, in reality, ideologies of consent and not of rebellion.
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And real nobility (that of the heart) is based on scorn, courage, and profound indifference.
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I was always able to understand my friend who decided to quit smoking and who, through an effort of will, succeeded in doing so. One morning, he opened the newspaper, read that the first H- bomb had exploded, found out about the bomb's admirable effects and went straight to the tobacconist's.
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Obstinacy alone is not a virtue.
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There is scarcely any passion without struggle.
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The temptation shared by all forms of intelligence: cynicism.
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More and more, revolution has found itself delivered into the hands of its bureaucrats and doctrinaires on the one hand, and to the enfeebled and bewildered masses on the other.