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Albert Camus Quotes - Page 29

All Quotes Acting Adventure Age Aging Alienation Anxiety Art Atheism Atheist Attitude Beach Beauty Belief Birth Bitterness Boredom Chaos Character Children Choices Community Compassion Confession Conformity Consciousness Country Courage Creation Creativity Crime Criticism Culture Cynicism Darkness Death Death Penalty Design Desire Destiny Dignity Discipline Divorce Doubt Drama Duty Dying Earth Effort Energy Ethics Evil Existentialism Experience Fate Fear Feelings Fighting Football Forgiveness Freedom Friends Friendship Funeral Future Generosity Genius Giving Giving Up God Goodness Gratitude Greatness Greek Guilt Happiness Happiness And Love Happy Harmony Hate Hatred Heart Heaven Heroism History Home Honesty Hope House Human Nature Humanity Hurt Idealism Ideology Imagination Independence Innocence Inspirational Inspiring Integrity Intelligence Joy Judgement Judging Judgment Justice Killing Knowledge Liberty Life Life And Death Logic Loss Love Love Life Luck Lying Meaning Of Life Memories Money Morality Morning Motivational Myth Nature Nihilism Nostalgia Office Pain Painting Passion Peace Personality Philosophy Politics Poverty Power Progress Psychology Purpose Reality Rebellion Regret Religion Responsibility Retirement Revolution Risk Running Sacrifice Selfishness Separation Shame Silence Simplicity Sin Sleep Solitude Son Sorrow Soul Spring Struggle Study Stupidity Success Suffering Summer Time Today Torture Tragedy Truth Twilight Unity Values Violence Virtue Waiting Wall War Weakness Winning Winter Wisdom Work Writing

Man is an idea, and a precious small idea once he turns his back on love.

Man is an idea, and a precious small idea once he turns his back on love.

Love, Men, Precious Stones

Albert Camus (1972). “The Plague”, eBookEden.com

[Many artists], even the greatest ones, are not sure of their own existence. So they search for proof, they judge, they condemn. It strengthens them, it is the beginnings of existence. They are alone!

Art, Judging, Criticism

Outside of that single fatality of death, everything, joy or happiness, is liberty.

Joy, Liberty, Sisyphus

Albert Camus (2012). “The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays”, p.117, Vintage

Friendship is not so simple. It is hard to get and takes a long time, but when one ha it one cannot get rid of it, one has to face it.

Simple, Long, Faces

From the moment absurdity is recognized, it becomes a passion, the most harrowing of all. But whether or not one can live with one's passions, whether or not one can accept their law, which is to burn the heart they simultaneously exalt - that is the whole question.

Passion, Heart, Law

Albert Camus (2012). “The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays”, p.22, Vintage

Every minute of life carries with it its miraculous value, and its face of eternal youth.

Faces, Youth, Minutes

Albert Camus (1963). “Carnets: 1935-1942”

I've seen of enough of people who die for an idea. I don't believe in heroism; I know it's easy and I've learned it can be murderous. What interests me is living and dying for what one loves.

Believe, Ideas, People

Albert Camus (1972). “The Plague”, eBookEden.com

God is not necessary to create culpability, or to punish. Our fellow men are enough for that, helped by ourselves.

God, Men, Guilt

The struggle to reach the top is itself enough to fulfill the heart of man. One must believe that Sisyphus is happy.

Believe, Struggle, Heart

But do you know why we are always more just and generous toward the dead? The reason is simple. With them there is no obligation. They leave us free and we can take our time, fit the testimonial between a cocktail party and a nice little mistress, in our spare time, in short.

Nice, Party, Simple

Albert Camus (2012). “The Fall”, p.33, Vintage

Truth, like light is dazzling. By contrast, untruth is a beautiful sunset that enhances everything.

Beautiful, Sunset, Light

Crime too is a form of solitude, even if one thousand get together to commit it. And it is right for me to die alone, after having lived and killed alone.

Solitude, Together, Crime

We don't have the time to completely be ourselves. We only have the room to be happy.

Rooms

When love ceases to be tragic it is something else and the individual again throws himself in search of tragedy.

Tragedy, Happiness And Love, Individual

Albert Camus (2008). “Notebooks, 1951-1959”, Ivan R Dee

You know, [women] do not really condemn any weakness: rather, they try to humiliate or disarm our strengths. That is why women arethe reward, not of the warrior, but of the criminal.

Warrior, Men, Trying

This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.

Divorce, Men, Absurdity Of Life

Albert Camus (2012). “The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays”, p.6, Vintage

Men are never really willing to die except for the sake of freedom: therefore they do not believe in dying completely.

Death, Believe, Men

Albert Camus (2012). “The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt”, p.291, Vintage

But,' I reminded myself, 'it's common knowledge that life isn't worth living, anyhow.

Common, Common Knowledge, Worth Living

Albert Camus (1960). “Collected fiction”

Virtue cannot separate itself from reality without becoming a principle of evil.

Reality, Evil, Principles

There is always a philosophy for lack of courage.

Philosophy, Cowardice

Albert Camus (1965). “Notebooks, 1942-1951”

To correct a natural indifference I was placed half-way between misery and the sun. Misery kept me from believing that all was well under the sun, and the sun taught me that history wasn't everything.

Believe, Differences, Historical

To begin with, poor people´s memory is less nourished than that of a rich; it has fewer landmarks in space because they seldom leave the place where they live, and fewer reference points in time throughtout lives that are grey and featureless.

Memories, Space, People

the one who doesnt play, doesnt win anything, but he actually looses somehting, {playing}

Winning, Play

Nothing can discourage the appetite for divinity in the heart of man.

Heart, Men, Divinity

Albert Camus (2012). “The Rebel: An Essay on Man in Revolt”, p.147, Vintage

Don't lies eventually lead to the truth? And don't all my stories, true or false, tend toward the same conclusion? Don't they all have the same meaning? So what does it matter whether they are true or false if, in both cases, they are significant of what I have been and what I am? Sometimes it is easier to see clearly into the liar than into the man who tells the truth. Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.

Beautiful, Liars, Lying

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