Nothing in life is worth,turning your back on,if you love it.
Human relationships always help us to carry on because they always presuppose further developments, a future – and also because we live as if our only task was precisely to have relationships with other people.
What made me run away was doubtless not so much the fear of settling down, but of settling down permanently in something ugly.
Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.
Do not wait for the last judgment. It comes every day.
I have no idea what’s awaiting me, or what will happen when this all ends. For the moment I know this: there are sick people and they need curing.
What is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying.
A man’s work is nothing but this slow trek to rediscover, through the detours of art, those two or three great and simple images in whose presence his heart first opened.
If something is going to happen to me, I want to be there.
I feel like getting married, or committing suicide, or subscribing to L’Illustration. Something desperate, you know.
Man is the only creature who refuses to be what he is.
Man is always prey to his truths. Once he has admitted them, he cannot free himself from them.
Some people talk in their sleep. Lecturers talk while other people sleep
Au milieu de l’hiver, j’ai découvert en moi un invincible été.
The evil that is in the world almost always comes from ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding.
Mother used to say that however miserable one is, there’s always something to be thankful for. And each morning, when the sky brightened and light began to flood my cell, I agreed with her.
If there were a party of those who aren’t sure they’re right, I’d belong to it.
No code of ethics and no effort are justifiable a priori in the face of the cruel mathematics that command our condition.
There is no fate which cannot be surmounted by scorn.
Those who lack the courage will always find a philosophy to justify it.
There is but one true philosophical problem and that is suicide.
Do you believe in God, doctor?”No – but what does that really mean? I’m fumbling in the dark, struggling to make something out. But I’ve long ceased finding that original.
I don’t know whether this world has a meaning that transcends it. But I know that I cannot know that meaning and that it is impossible for me just now to know it.
A novel is never anything but a philosophy expressed in images. And in a good novel the philosophy has disappeared into the images.
Seeking what is true is not seeking what is desirable.
Lying is not only saying what isn’t true. It is also, in fact especially, saying more than is true, and, in the case of the human heart, saying more than one feels.
False judges are held up in the world’s admiration and I alone know the true ones.
What I believe to be true I must therefore preserve. What seems to me so obvious, even against me, I must support.
What we call fundamental truths are simply the ones we discover after all the others.
The reasoning is classic in its clarity. If God does not exist, Kirilov is god. If God does not exist, Kirilov must kill himself. Kirilov must therefore kill himself to become god. That logic is absurd, but it is what is needed.
You will never be happy if you continue to search for what happiness consists of. You will never live if you are looking for the meaning of life.
Happiness and the absurd are two sons of the same earth. They are inseparable.
It is a kind of spiritual snobbery that makes people think they can be happy without money.
A man wants to earn money in order to be happy, and his whole effort and the best of a life are devoted to the earning of that money. Happiness is forgotten; the means are taken for the end.
For who would dare to assert that eternal happiness can compensate for a single moment’s human suffering
Your success and happiness are forgiven you only if you generously consent to share them. But to be happy it is essential not to be too concerned with others. Consequently, there is no escape. Happy and judged, or absolved and wretched.
You are forgiven for your happiness and your successes only if you generously consent to share them.
There’s the risk of being loved…and that would keep me from being happy.
What did it matter if he existed for two or for twenty years? Happiness was the fact that he had existed.
You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question.
… I suppose that it is not so easy to go home and it takes a bit of time to make a son out of a stranger.
Where there is no hope, it is incumbent on us to invent it.
A man devoid of hope and conscious of being so has ceased to belong to the future.
And indeed it could be said that once the faintest stirring of hope became possible, the dominion of plague was ended.
We refuse to despair of mankind. Without having the unreasonable ambition to save men, we still want to serve them.
It is the job of thinking people not to be on the side of the executioners.
Remembrance of things past is just for the rich. For the poor it only marks the faint traces on the path to death.
Because there is nothing here than invites us to cherish unhappy lovers. Nothing is more vain than to die for love. What we ought to do is live.
It seems that the people of Oran are like that friend of Flaubert who, on the point of death, casting a last glance at the irreplaceable earth, exclaimed: “Close the window, it’s too beautiful.
որևէ քաղաք ճանաչելու ամենաճիշտ ձևերից մեկն էլ իմանալն է, թե ինչպե՞ս են այնտեղ աշխատում, ինչպե՞ս են սիրում, և ինչպե՞ս են մեռնում:
The purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself.
In order to be created, a work of art must first make use of the dark forces of the soul
…since the order of the world is shaped by death, mightn’t it be better for God if we refuse to believe in Him and struggle with all our might against death, without raising our eyes towards the heaven where He sits in silence?
That was unthinkable, he said; all men believe in God, even those who reject Him. Of this he was absolutely sure; if ever he came to doubt it, his life would lose all meaning.
Where would his torture be, indeed, if at every step the hope of succeeding upheld him?
Every achievement is a servitude. It compels us to a higher achievement.
I used to advertise my loyalty and I don’t believe there is a single person I loved that I didn’t eventually betray.
Don’t walk in front of me… I may not followDon’t walk behind me… I may not leadWalk beside me… just be my friend
To be born to create, to love, to win at games is to be born to live in time of peace. But war teaches us to lose everything and become what we were not. It all becomes a question of style.
It is a great deal to fight while despising war, to accept losing everything while still preferring happiness, to face destruction while cherishing the idea of a higher civilization.
In raining bullets on those silent faces, already turned away from this world, you think you are disfiguring the face of our truth.
This land on which so many centuries have left their mark is merely an obligatory retreat for you, whereas it has always been our dearest hope. Your too sudden passion is made up of spite and necessity.
For all those landscapes, those flowers and those plowed fields, the oldest of lands, show you every spring that there are things you cannot choke in blood.
And despite the clamors and the violence, we tried to preserve in our hearts the memory of a happy sea, of a remembered hill, the smile of a beloved face.
You must realize that men make war as much with the enthusiasm of those who want it as with the despair of those who reject it with all their soul.
I don’t want to be a genius-I have enough problems just trying to be a man.
Every time I hear a political speech or I read those of our leaders, I am horrified at having, for years, heard nothing which sounded human. It is always the same words telling the same lies.
How unbearable, for women, is the tenderness which a man can give them without love. For men, how bittersweet this is.
Women naturally prefer their ideas to their sensations.
Beauty is unbearable, drives us to despair, offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
Man cannot do without beauty, and this is what our era pretends to want to disregard.
There is something divine in mindless beauty, and Mersault was particularly responsive to it.
My soul’s a burden to me, I’ve had enough of it. I’m eager to be in that country, where the sun kills every question. I don’t belong here.
The cats sleep for days at a time and make love from the first star until dawn. Their pleasures are fierce, and their sleep impenetrable. And they know that the body has a soul in which the soul has no part.
Without culture, and the relative freedom it implies, society, even when perfect, is but a jungle. This is why any authentic creation is a gift to the future.
Creating is living doubly. The groping, anxious quest of a Proust, his meticulous collecting of flowers, of wallpapers, and of anxieties, signifies nothing else.
A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.
If the only significant history of human thought were to be written, it would have to be the history of its successive regrets and its impotences.
He who despairs of the human condition is a coward, but he who has hope for it is a fool.
I would like to be able to breathe— to be able to love her by memory or fidelity. But my heart aches. I love you continuously, intensely.
But the heart has its own memory and I have forgotten nothing.
It is not true that the heart wears out — but the body creates this illusion.
The world always says the same thing. And in that patient truth which proceeds from star to star is established a freedom that releases us from ourselves and from others, as in that other patient truth which proceeds from death to death.
The world is always satisfied, it turns out, with countenance it can understand. Indolence and cowardice do the rest. Independence is earned by a few words of cheap confidence.
The misery and greatness of this world: it offers no truths, but only objects for love. Absurdity is king, but love saves us from it.
In order to exist just once in the world, it is necessary never again to exist.
There are crimes of passion and crimes of logic. The boundary between them is not clearly defined.
I was assailed by memories of a life that wasn’t mine anymore, but one in which I’d found the simplest and most lasting joys: the smells of summer, the part of town I loved, a certain evening sky, Marie’s dresses and the way she laughed.
Perhaps we cannot prevent this world from being a world in which children are tortured. But we can reduce the number of tortured children.
She was waiting, but she didn’t know for what. She was aware only of her solitude, and of the penetrating cold, and of a greater weight in the region of her heart.
I like these people swarming on the sidewalks, wedged into a little space of houses and canals, hemmed in by fogs, cold lands, and the sea streaming like a wet wash. I like them, for they are double. They are here and elsewhere.
As a remedy to life in society I would suggest the big city. Nowadays, it is the only desert within our means.
In the depth of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.
I felt as though I was partly unlearning what i had never learned and yet knew so well: I mean, how to live.
Instead of killing and dying in order to produce the being that we are not, we have to live and let live in order to create what we are.
Yes, one can wager war in this world, ape love, torture one’s fellow man, or merely say evil of one’s neighbor while knitting. But, in certain cases, carrying on, merely continuing, is superhuman.
If Christianity is pessimistic as to man, it is optimistic as to human destiny. Well, I can say that, pessimistic as to human destiny, I am optimistic as to man.
To create today is to create dangerously. Any publication is an act, and that act exposes one to the passions of an age that forgives nothing.
Real generosity towards the future lies in giving all to the present.
Thinking of the future, establishing aims for oneself, having preferences—all this presupposes a belief in freedom, even if one occasionally ascertains that one doesn’t feel it.
If, after all, men cannot always make history have a meaning, they can always act so that their own lives have one.
Absolute virtue is impossible and the republic of forgiveness leads, with implacable logic, to the republic of the guillotine.
I hope the dogs don’t bark tonight. I always think it’s mine
Against eternal injustice, man must assert justice, and to protest against the universe of grief, he must create happiness.
It is necessary to fall in love – the better to provide an alibi for all the despair we are going to feel anyway.
But this time is ours, and we cannot live hating ourselves
Believe me, for certain men at least, not taking what one doesn’t desire is the hardest thing in the world.
I cannot stand the company of men. They flatter or they judge. I can stand neither of the two.
I never truly believed that human business was some serious thing.
How did I picture the life after the grave? I fairly bawled out at him: “A life in which I can remember this life on earth. That’s all I want of it.
Any country where I am not bored is a country that teaches me nothing.
When a man has learned how to remain alone with his suffering, how to overcome his longing to flee, then he has little left to learn.
Men are never convinced of your reasons, of your sincerity, of the seriousness of your sufferings, except by your death. So long as you are alive, your case is doubtful; you have a right only to their skepticism.
Who taught you all this, doctor?”The reply came promptly:”Suffering.
It is not humiliating to be unhappy. Physical suffering is sometimes humiliating, but the suffering of being cannot be, it is life.
But in the end one needs more courage to live than to kill himself.
The literal meaning of life is whatever you’re doing that prevents you from killing yourself.
Thus I draw from the absurd three consequences, which are myrevolt, my freedom, and my passion. By the mere activity ofconsciousness I transform into a rule of life what was an invitationto death—and I refuse suicide.
The mind, when it reaches its limits, must make a judgment and choose its conclusions. This is where suicide and the reply stand.
Is one to die voluntarily or to hope in spite of everything?
…he was conscious of the disastrous fact that love and desire must be expressed in the same way…
Their pleasures are fierce and their sleep impenetrable. And they know that the body has a soul in which the soul has no part.
People can think only in images. If you want to be a philosopher, write novels.
Thinking is learning all over again how to see, directing one’s consciousness, making of every image a privileged place.
At 30 a man should know himself like the palm of his hand, know the exact number of his defects and qualities, know how far he can go, foretell his failures – be what he is. And, above all, accept these things.
In the world there is, parallel to the force of death and constraint, an enormous force of persuasion that is called culture.
I explained to him, however, that my nature was such that my physical needs often got in the way of my feelings.
But a man’s beauty represents inner, functional truths: his face shows what he can do.
There can be no question of holding forth on ethics. I have seen people behave badly with great morality and I note every day that integrity has no need of rules
If I had to write a book on morality, it would have a hundred pages and ninety-nine would be blank. On the last page I should write: “I recognize only one duty, and that is to love.
From the moment that man submits God to moral judgment, he kills Him his own heart.
If pimps and thieves were invariably sentenced, all decent people would get to thinking they themselves were constantly innocent.
Beyond the curve of his days he glimpsed neither superhuman happiness nor eternity–happiness was human, eternity ordinary.
I didn’t like having to explain to them, so I just shut up, smoked a cigarette, and looked at the sea.
It is in the thick of a calamity that one gets hardened to the truth, in other words to silence.
They were silent, humiliated by this return of the defeated, furious at their own silence, but the more it was prolonged the less capable they were of breaking it.
The welfare of the people in particular has always been the alibi of tyrants, and it provides the further advantage of giving the servants of tyranny a good conscience.
I am strangely tired, not from having talked so much but at the mere thought of what I still have to say
I should like to be able to love my country and still love justice.
I couldn’t quite understand how an ordinary man’s good qualities could become crushing accusations against a guilty man.
And I should like to be able to love my country and still love justice. I don’t want any greatness for it, particularly a greatness born of blood and falsehood. I want to keep it alive by keeping justice alive.
As he himself said, “I will prove it to you, gentlemen, and i will prove it in two ways. First in the blinding clarity of the facts, and second, in the dim light cast by the mind of his criminal soul.
Healthy people have a natural skill of avoiding feverish eyes.
In the vast reaches of the dry, cold night, thousands of stars were constantly appearing, and their sparkling icicles, loosened at once, began to slip gradually toward the horizon.
There is no sun without shadow, and it is essential to know the night.
I think my life is of great importance, but I also think it is meaningless.
For the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, I opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. Finding it so much like myself—so like a brother really—I felt that I had been happy and that I was happy again.
Why, because an author has more rights than ordinary people, as everybody knows. People will stand much more from him.
They fancied themselves free, and no one will ever be free so long as there are pestilences.
In order to understand the world, one has to turn away from it on occa
How many crimes have been committed for no other reason than that the perpetrator could not bear being in the wrong!
Mistaken ideas always end in bloodshed, but in every case it is someone else’s blood. This is why our thinkers feel free to say just about anything.
… We need the sweet pain of anticipation to tell us we are really alive.
Sometimes at night I would sleep open-eyed underneath a sky dripping with stars. I was alive then.
Actual freedom has not increased in proportion to man’s awareness of it.
The tragedy is not that we are alone, but that we cannot be. At times I would give anything in the world to no longer be connected by anything to this universe of men.
Let’s not worry. It’s too late now. It will always be too late, fortunately!
There is no longer a single idea explaining everything, but an infinite number of essences giving a meaning to an infinite number of objects. The world comes to a stop, but also lights up.
If there were a party of those who aren’t sure they’re right, I’d belong t
Ah, this dear old planet! All is clear now. We know ourselves; we now know of what we are capable.
Our purpose is to find out whether innocence, the moment it becomes involved in an action, can avoid committing murder.
This heart within me I can feel, and I judge that it exists. This world I can touch, and I likewise judge that it exists. There ends all my knowledge, and the rest is construction. (…) Forever I shall be a stranger to myself.
Independence is earned by a few words of cheap confidence
I know that man is capable of great deeds. But if he isn’t capable of great emotion, well, he leaves me cold.
The most important thing you do everyday you live is deciding not to kill yourself.
One recognizes one’s course by discovering the paths that stray from it
As I usually do when I want to get rid of someone whose conversation bores me, I pretended to agree.
When one has no character, one HAS to apply a method. Here it did wonders incontrovertibly, and I am living on the site of one of the greatest crimes in human history.
There is only one class of men, the privileged class
Man wants to live, but it is useless to hope that this desire will dictate all his actions.
In medical science, as in daily life, it was unwise to jump to conclusions
We have no need of God to create guilt or to punish. Our fellow men are enough, with our help.
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.
At that time, I often thought that if I had had to live in the trunk of a dead tree, with nothing to do but look up at the sky flowing overhead, little by little I would have gotten used to it.
Mother died today. Or maybe yesterday, I don’t know.
For all to be accomplished, for me to feel less lonely, all that remained to hope was that on the day of my execution there should be a huge crowd of spectators and that they should greet me with howls of execration.
How did I picture the life after the grave?I Fairly bawled out at him: ‘A life in which I can remember this life on earth. That’s all I want of it.
And just then it crossed my mind that one might fire, or not fire—and it would come to absolutely the same thing.
You are only excused for happiness and success if you generously agree to share them. But if one is to be happy, one should not worry too much about other people – which means there is no way out. Happy and judged or absolved and miserable.
We call love what binds us to certain creatures only by reference to a collective way of seeing for which books and legends are responsible.
This very heart which is mine will forever remain indefinable to me. Between the certainty I have of my existence and the content I try to give to that assurance, the gap will never be filled. Forever I shall be a stranger to myself.
The spirit of rebellion can only exist in a society where a theoretical equality conceals great factual inequalities. The problem of rebellion, therefore, has no meaning except within our own Western society.
If nothing had any meaning, you would be right. But there is something that still has a meaning.
Who, cher monsieur, will sleep on the floor for us? Whether I am capable of it myself? Look, I’d like to be and I shall be. Yes, we shall all be capable of it one day, and that will be salvation.
The irrational, the human nostalgia, and the absurd that is born of their encounter – these are the three characters in the drama that must necessarily end with all the logic of which an existence is capable
It is always easy to be logical. It is almost impossible to be logical to the bitter end.
Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being.
You know very well that I no longer think. I am far too intelligent for that.
People hasten to judge in order not to be judged themselves.
To be happy, we must not be too concerned with others.
One plays at being immortal and after a few weeks one doesn’t even know whether or not one can hang on till the next day.
You see, Mersualt, all the misery and cruelty of our civilisation can be measured by this one stupid axiom: happy nations have no history.
Sometimes, from beyond the skycrapers, the cry of a tugboat finds you in your insomnia, and you remember that this desert of iron and cement is an island.
The absurd is the essential concept and the first truth.
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.
The truth is that everyone is bored, and devotes himself to cultivating habits.
There is not love of life without despair about life.
There lay certitude; there, in the daily round. All the rest hung on mere threads and trivial contingencies; you couldn’t waste your time on it. The thing was to do your job as it should be done.
I shall tell you a great secret my friend. Do not wait for the last judgement it takes place every day.
The struggle to the top is in itself enough to fulfill the human heart. Sisyphus should be regarded as happy.
In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
Every artist preserves deep within him a single source from which throughout his lifetime he draws what he is and what he says and when the source dries up the work withers and crumbles.
Beauty is unbearable drives us to despair offering us for a minute the glimpse of an eternity that we should like to stretch out over the whole of time.
Charm is a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question.
Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better whereas enslavement is a certainty of the worst.
Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear.
If there is a sin against life it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.
Don’t believe your friends when they ask you to be honest with them. All they really want is to be maintained in the good opinion they have of themselves.
To be happy we must not be too concerned with others.
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself.
The slave begins by demanding justice and ends by wanting to wear a crown. He must dominate in his turn.
If there is a sin against life it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.
He who despairs of the human condition is a coward but he who has hope for it is a fool.
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads.
A novel is never anything but a philosophy put into images.
We always deceive ourselves twice about the people we love – first to their advantage then to their disadvantage.
Every minute of life carries with it its miraculous value and its face of eter1nal youth.
Freedom is nothing else but a chance to be better whereas enslavement is a certainty of the worst.
In the midst of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear.
An intense feeling carries with it its own universe magnificent or wretched as the case may be.
In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
Politics and the fate of mankind are shaped by men without ideals and without greatness.
At thirty a man should know himself like the palm of his hand know the exact number of his defects and qualities. … And above all accept these things.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
We rarely confide in those who are better than we are.
Don’t wait for the Last Judgment. It takes place every day.
At thirty a man should know himself like the palm of his hand know the exact number of his defects and qualities. … And above all accept these things.
If after all men cannot always make history have a meaning they can always act so that their own lives have one.
If after all men cannot always make history have a meaning they can always act so that their own lives have one.
As a remedy to life in society I would suggest the big city. Nowadays it is the only desert within our reach.
Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.
If after all men cannot always make history have a meaning they can always act so that their own lives have one.
We call first truths those we discover after all the others.
There is dignity in work only when it is work freely accepted.
There is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.
To write is to become disinterested. There is a certain renunciation in art.
In order to exist, man must rebel, but rebellion must respect the limits that it discovers in itself – limits where minds meet, and in meeting, begin to exist.
Nothing is more despicable than respect based on fear.
Men must live and create. Live to the point of tears.
We used to wonder where war lived, what it was that made it so vile. And now we realize that we know where it lives… inside ourselves.
Without work, all life goes rotten. But when work is soulless, life stifles and dies.
To be famous, in fact, one has only to kill one’s landlady.
Autumn is a second spring when every leaf is a flower.
In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.
Retaliation is related to nature and instinct, not to law. Law, by definition, cannot obey the same rules as nature.
After all manner of professors have done their best for us, the place we are to get knowledge is in books. The true university of these days is a collection of books.
Blessed are the hearts that can bend they shall never be broken.
I am not made for politics because I am incapable of wanting or accepting the death of the adversary.
In order to speak about all and to all, one has to speak of what all know and of the reality common to us all. The sea, rains, necessity, desire, the struggle against death… these are things that unite us all.
Alas, after a certain age every man is responsible for his face.
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?
Heroism is accessible. Happiness is more difficult.
Your successes and happiness are forgiven you only if you generously consent to share them.
An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself.
The modern mind is in complete disarray. Knowledge has stretched itself to the point where neither the world nor our intelligence can find any foot-hold. It is a fact that we are suffering from nihilism.
The only real progress lies in learning to be wrong all alone.
I would rather live my life as if there is a God and die to find out there isn’t, than live as if there isn’t and to die to find out that there is.
I was born poor and without religion, under a happy sky, feeling harmony, not hostility, in nature. I began not by feeling torn, but in plenitude.
Conscious of not being able to separate myself from my time, I have decided to become part of it.
The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding.
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.
You cannot create experience. You must undergo it.
When you have really exhausted an experience you always reverence and love it.
How can sincerity be a condition of friendship? A taste for truth at any cost is a passion which spares nothing.
Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object.
Truth is mysterious, elusive, always to be conquered. Liberty is dangerous, as hard to live with as it is elating. We must march toward these two goals, painfully but resolutely, certain in advance of our failings on so long a road.
A taste for truth at any cost is a passion which spares nothing.
Real nobility is based on scorn, courage, and profound indifference.
To insure the adoration of a theorem for any length of time, faith is not enough, a police force is needed as well.
The artist forges himself to the others, midway between the beauty he cannot do without and the community he cannot tear himself away from. That is why true artists scorn nothing: they are obliged to understand rather than to judge.
Without freedom, no art; art lives only on the restraints it imposes on itself, and dies of all others.
Don’t walk behind me I may not lead. Don’t walk in front of me I may not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend.
Friendship often ends in love, but love in friendship – never.
By definition, a government has no conscience. Sometimes it has a policy, but nothing more.
The society based on production is only productive, not creative.
The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.
A free press can, of course, be good or bad, but, most certainly without freedom, the press will never be anything but bad.
Men are never really willing to die except for the sake of freedom: therefore they do not believe in dying completely.
Real generosity toward the future lies in giving all to the present.