What I know at sixty, I knew as well at twenty. Forty years of a long, a superfluous, labor of verification.
Emil M. CioranEven in childhood I watched the hours flow, independent of any reference, any action, any event, the disjunction of time from what was not itself, its autonomous existence, its special status, its empire, its tyranny. I remember quite clearly that afternoon when, for the first time, confronting the empty universe, I was no more than a passage of moments reluctant to go on playing their proper parts. Time was coming unstuck from being—at my expense.
Emil M. CioranUnlike Job, I have not cursed the day I was born; all the other days, on the contrary, I have covered with my anathemas. …
Emil M. CioranIf death had only negative aspects, dying would be an unmanageable action.
Emil M. CioranEverything exists; nothing exists. Either formula affords a like serenity. The man of anxiety, to his misfortune, remains between them, trembling and perplexed, forever at the mercy of a nuance, incapable of gaining a foothold in the security of being or in the absence of being.
Emil M. CioranThe real, the unique misfortune: to see the light of day. A disaster which dates back to aggressiveness, to the seed of expansion and rage within origins, to the tendency to the worst which first shook them up.
Emil M. CioranI long to be free—desperately free. Free as the stillborn are free.
Emil M. CioranHere on the coast of Normandy, at this hour of the morning, I needed no one. The very gulls’ presence bothered me: I drove them off with stones. And hearing their supernatural shrieks, I realized that that was just what I wanted, that only the Sinister could soothe me, and that it was for such a confrontation that I had got up before dawn.
Emil M. CioranAt this very moment, I am suffering—as we say in French, j’ai mal. This event, crucial for me, is nonexistent, even inconceivable for anyone else, for everyone else. Except for God, if that word can have a meaning.
Emil M. CioranOur obsession with birth, by shifting us to a point before our past, robs us of our pleasure in the future, in the present, and even in the past.
Emil M. Cioran« ; premier précédent
Page 47 de 70.
suivant dernier » ;
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.