On est jamais tout à fait malheureux.
Albert CamusThere are many causes for a suicide, and generally the most obvious ones were not the most powerful. Rarely is suicide committed (yet the hypothesis is not excluded) through reflection. What sets off the crisis is almost always unverifiable. Newspapers often speak of "personal sorrows" or of "incurable illness." These explanations are plausible. But one would have to know whether a friend of the desperate man had not that very day addressed him indifferently. He is the guilty one. For that is enough to precipitate all the rancors and all the boredom still in suspension. But if it is hard to fix the precise instant, the subtle step when the mind opted for death, it is easier to deduce from the act itself the consequences it implies. In a sense, and as in melodrama, killing yourself amounts to confessing. It is confessing that life is too much for you or that you do not understand it. Let's not go too far in such analogies, however, but rather return to everyday words. It is merely confessing that that "is not worth the trouble." Living, naturally, is never easy. You continue making the gestures commanded by existence for many reasons, the first of which is habit. Dying voluntarily implies that you have recognized, even instinctively, the ridiculous character of that habit, the absence of any profound reason for living, the insane character of that daily agitation, and the uselessness of suffering. What, then, is that incalculable feeling that deprives the mind of the sleep necessary to life? A world that can be explained even with bad reasons is a familiar world. But, on the other hand, in a universe suddenly divested of illusions and lights, man feels an alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land. This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.
Albert CamusThere is always a philosophy for lack of courage
Albert CamusThe realization that life is absurd cannot be an end, but only a beginning.
Albert CamusIl n'y a pas d'amour loin de Dieu.
Kaliayev: Si. L'amour pour la créature.
Ne pleurez pas. Non, non, ne pleurez pas! Vous voyez bien que c'est le jour de la justification. Quelque chose s'élève à cette heure qui est notre témoignage à nous autres révoltés: Yanek n'est plus un meurtrier. Un bruit terrible! Il a suffi d'un bruit terrible et le voilà retourné à la joie de l'enfance. Vous souvenez-vous de son rire? Il riait sans raison parfois. Comme il était jeune! Il doit rire maintenant. Il doit rire, la face contre la terre!
Albert CamusLa liberté est un bagne aussi longtemps qu'un seul homme est asservi sur la terre.
Albert CamusTout le monde ment. Bien mentir, voilà ce qu'il faut.
Albert CamusPourquoi? Tes yeux sont toujours tristes, Dora. Il faut être gaie, il faut être fière. La beauté existe, la joie existe! « Aux lieux tranquilles où mon coeur te souhaitait...
Dora: Je respirais un éternel été... »
Je suis venu pour tuer un homme, non pour l'aimer ni pour saluer sa différence.
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