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What I know at sixty, I knew as well at twenty. Forty years of a long, superfluous, labor of verification.

Emile M. Cioran

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Emile M. Cioran
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Under each formula lies a corpse.
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To act is to anchor in the imminent future.
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Losing love is so rich a philosophical ordeal that it makes a hairdresser into a rival of Socrates.
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As art sinks into paralysis, artists multiply. This anomaly ceases to be one if we realize that art, on its way to exhaustion, has become both impossible and easy.
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In every man sleeps a prophet, and when he wakes there is a little more evil in the world.
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One is and remains a slave as long as one is not cured of hoping.
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I do not forgive myself for being born. It is as if creeping into this world, I had profaned a mystery, betrayed some momentous pledge, committed a fault of nameless gravity.
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Each time I fail to think about death, I have the impression of cheating, of deceiving someone in me.
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Insomnia is a vertiginous lucidity that can convert paradise itself into a place of torture.
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Transmitting one's flaws [through procreation] to someone else is a crime. I could never consent to give life to someone who would inherent my ailments.
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Normal people have nothing to forget.
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What music appeals to in us it is difficult to know what we do know is that music reaches a zone so deep that madness itself cannot penetrate there.
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Everything is pathology, except for indifference.
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I try--without success--to stop finding reasons for vanity in anything. When I happen to manage it nonetheless, I feel that I no longer belong to the mortal gang. I am above everything then, above the gods themselves. Perhaps that is what death is: a sensation of great, of extreme superiority.
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What is pity but the vice of kindness.
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Tolerance - the function of an extinguished ardor - tolerance cannot seduce the young.
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The only way of enduring one disaster after the next is to love the very idea of disaster: if we succeed, there are no further surprises, we are superior to whatever occurs, we are invincible victims.
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Woes and wonders of power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
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If you're unlucky enough not to have alcoholic parents, it takes you a whole lifetime of intoxication to overcome the dead weight of their virtues.
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Paradise was unendurable, otherwise the first man would have adapted to it this world is no less so, since here we regret paradise or anticipate another one. What to do? Where to go? Do nothing and go nowhere, easy enough.
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