Quotes from Emil Cioran

I very much like this one :" For you who no longer posses it, freedom is everything..For us who do it is merely an illusion..

S? zgîlÅ£îi oamenii, s?-i trezeÅŸti din somn, deÅŸi ÅŸtii c? prin asta s?vîrÅŸeÅŸti o crim? ÅŸi c? ar fi de o mie de ori mai bine s?-i laÅŸi s?-ÅŸi vad? de treaba lor, pentru c?, de altfel, cînd se trezesc, n-ai nimic s? le propui...

C? s-a spus totul, c? nu mai e nimic de spus — o ÅŸtim, o simÅ£im. Dar ceea ce simÅ£im mai puÅ£in e c? aceast? eviden?? confer? limbajului un statut straniu, chiar îngrijor?tor, care-l elibereaz?. Cuvintele sunt în sfîrÅŸit salvate, pentru c? au încetat s? tr?iasc?.

Simt nevoia sa ies din mine si sa nu ma mai opresc,sa depasesc toate limitele care-au fost trecute vreodata,sa scap de sub tirania creierului.

Nu cunosc pe nimeni mai inutil ÅŸi mai inutilizabil ca mine. E un fapt pe care ar trebui s?-l accept pur ÅŸi simplu,f?r? s? m? consider cîtuÅŸi de puÅ£in mîndru pentru asta. Dac? nu va fi aÅŸa, conÅŸtiinÅ£a inutilit??ii mele nu-mi vaservi la nimic.

Nu preÅ£uiesc o carte decât prin tulburarea, prin otrava pe care-o toarn? în mine.

I have always lived with the awareness of the impossibility of living. And what has made existence endurable to me is my curiosity as to how I would get from one minute, one day, one year to the next.

I had gone far in search of the sun, and the sun, found at last, was hostile to me. And if I were to fling myself off a cliff? While I was making such rather grim speculations, considering these pines, these rocks, these waves, I suddenly felt how bound I was to this lovely, accursed universe.

Our only choice is between irrespirable truths and salutary frauds.

Each opinion, each view is necessarily partial, truncated, inadequate. In philosophy and in anything, originality comes down to incomplete definitions.

Nostalgia, more than anything, gives us the shudder of our own imperfection.

Voi ajunge vreodata atat de pur, ca nu ma voi putea oglindi decat in lacrimi de sfinti?

Cu cât se îndep?rteaz? de Dumnezeu, cu atât oamenii avanseaz? în cunoaÅŸterea religiilor.

In numele si sub teroarea ei (plictiselii, n.m.) parasesc oamenii caminul si moartea agreabila legata de el si se avanta in lume, spre a muri undeva fara acoperis si fara lacrimi; adolescentii se gandesc la sinucideri in zile infinite de primavara, iar servitoarele fara amanti se lamenteaza duminicile, de parca inima lor e un cimitir in care mortii nu pot dormi.

P?catul este expresia religioas? a remu?c?rii.

Daca n-ar fi iubit durerea, n-ar fi avut nevoie sa nascoceasca iadul — utopie a suferintei.

Here 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.

Were we in the habit of looking beyond the specific content of ideologies and doctrines, we should see that to claim kinship with one of them rather than some other does not at all imply much expenditure of sagacity. Those following one party imagine they differ from those following another, whereas all, once they choose, join each other underneath, participate in one and the same nature, and vary only in appearance, by the mask they assume.

Our 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.

We are all deep in a hell, each of which is a miracle.

Bach este un alt cuvânt pentru sublim ÅŸi cuvântul propriu pentru consolare. Muzica divin? ne închide singur? pleoapele. Ochii nu pot vedea decât p?mântul.

I dream of an ideal confessor to tell everything to, spill it all: I dream of a blasé saint.

Cinicul este spectatorul acestei universale absente. El priveste - îndurerat sau rîzînd — la nimic.

Nu sunt anticreÅŸtin, eu reproÅŸez creÅŸtinismului c? nu e indeajuns de profund ca budismul. Am ales între Cer ÅŸi Nirvana.