Albert Camus Quotes
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If only nature is real and if, in nature, only desire and destruction are legitimate, then, in that all humanity does not suffice to assuage the thirst for blood, the path of destruction must lead to universal annihilation.
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There can be no true goodness, nor true love, without the utmost clear-sightedness.
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... habit starts at the second crime. At the first one, something is ending.
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From the evening breeze to this hand on my shoulder, everything has its truth.
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Truth, like light is dazzling. By contrast, untruth is a beautiful sunset that enhances everything.
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The only real progress lies in learning to be wrong all alone.
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I enjoyed my own nature to the fullest, and we all know there lies happiness, although, to soothe one another mutually, we occasionally pretend to condemn such joys as selfishness.
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A profound thought is in a constant state of becoming; it adopts the experience of a life and assumes its shape.
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I realized people would soon forget me once I was dead. I couldn't even say that this was hard to stomach; really, there's no idea to which one doesn't get acclimatized in time.
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Capital punishment is the most premeditated of murders.
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It is not your paintings I like, it is your painting.
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But, you know, I feel more fellowship with the defeated than with saints. Heroism and sanctity don't really appeal to me, I imagine. What interests me is being a man.
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To be famous, in fact, one has only to kill one's landlady.
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We are all special cases.
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The only really committed artist is he who, without refusing to take part in the combat, at least refuses to join the regular armies and remains a freelance.
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The danger of lectures is that they create the illusion of teaching for teachers, and the illusion of learning for learners.
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It's a kind of spiritual snobbery that makes people think they can be happy without money.
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I had been right I was still right I was always right. I had lived my life one way and I could just as well lived it another. I had done this and I hadn't done that. I hadn't done this thing and I had done another. And so?
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Yes, everything is simple. It's people who complicate things.
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The world in which we were called to exist was an absurd world, and there was no other in which we could take refuge.
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Today we are always as ready to judge as we are to fornicate.
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We writers must know that we can never escape the common misery and that our only justification, if indeed there is a justification, is to speak up, insofar as we can, for those who cannot do so.
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Somebody has to have the last word. If not, every argument could be opposed by another and we'd never be done with it.
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Only the sea, murmurous behind the dingy checkerboard of houses, told of the unrest, the precariousness, of all things in this world.