Quotes About Paradox

Yes, everything's just fine. It's all perfectly fine. Except for one thing: it's all screwed up.

Isn't joyful or painful this pain in which I rejoice

Let's develop theories patiently and honestly thinking them out, in order to promptly act against them - acting and justifying our actions with new theories that condemn them. Let's cut a path in life then go immediately against that path. Let's adopt all the poses and gestures of something we aren't and don't even wish to be, and don't even wish to taken for being.

I have to choose what I detest – either dreaming, which my intelligence hates, or action, which my sensibility loathes; either action, for which I wasn't born, or dreaming, for which no one was born. Detesting both, I choose neither; but since I must on occasion either dream or act, I mix the two things together.

Adoramos a perfeição, porque não a podemos ter; repugná-la-íamos, se a tivéssemos. O perfeito é desumano, porque o humano é imperfeito.

O único modo de estarmos de acordo com a vida é estarmos em desacordo com nós próprios. O absurdo é divino.

El único modo de estar de acuerdo con la vida es estar en desacuerdo con nosotros mismos. Lo absurdo es lo divino. Establecer

inside the coop where he'll stay until he's killed, the rooster sings anthems to liberty because he was given two roosts.

The love of absurdity and paradox is the animal happiness of the sad.

it seems that what's artificial has become natural, and what's natural is now strange. Or rather, it's not that what's artificial has become natural; it's simply that what's natural has changed.

Nothing satisfies me, nothing consoles me; everything that has been and that hasn't been jades me. I don't want to have my soul and don't want to renounce it. I want what I don't want and renounce what I don't have. I can't be nothing nor be everything: I'm the bridge between what I don't have and what I don't want.

Death is what we are and what we live. We are born dead, we deadly exist, and we are already dead when we enter Death. Whatever lives, lives because it changes; it changes because it passes; and, because it passes, it dies. Whatever lives is constantly transforming into something else – it continually denies itself, it perpetually evades life. Life is thus an interval, a link, a relation, but a relation between what has passed and what will pass, a dead interval between Death and Death.

Let us absurdify life from east to west

I wonder if a man meditating slowly inside a fast-moving car is moving fast or slowly.

Everything is absurd.

The love of absurdity and paradox is the animal happiness* of the sad. Just as the normal man talks nonsense and slaps others on the back out of zest and vitality, so those incapable of joy and enthusiasm do somersaults in their minds and perform, in their own cold way, the warm gestures of life. 297.

Singurul mod de a ne putem pune de acord cu viaÅ£a este s? fim în dezacord cu noi înÅŸine.Absurdul este Divinul.

Se mi capita di essere coerente, è solo per incoerenza della mia incoerenza.

I never was but an isolated bon vivant, which is absurd; or a mystic bon vivant, which is an impossible thing.

I am me again, exactly as I am not.

El único modo de estar de acuerdo con el mundo es estar en desacuerdo con nosotros mismos. El absurdo es divino.

Si odio algo, es a un reformista. Un reformista es un hombre que ve los males superficiales del mundo y se propone curarlos agravando los fundamentales.

Whenever I've tried to free my life from a set of the circumstances that continually oppress it, I've been instantly surrounded by other circumstances of the same order, as if the inscrutable web of creation were irrevocably at odds with me. I yank from my neck a hand that was choking me, and I see that my own hand is tied to a noose that fell around my neck when I freed it from the stranger's hand. When I gingerly remove the noose, it's with my own hands that I nearly strangle myself.

I have to choose what I detest - either dreaming, which my intelligence hates, or action, which my sensibility loathes; either action, for which I wasn't born, or dreaming, for which no one was born. Detesting both, I choose neither; but since I must on occasion either dream or act, I mix the two things together.