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Every word affords me pain. Yet how sweet it would be if I could hear what the flowers have to say about death!
Emile M. Cioran
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Emile M. Cioran
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More quotes by Emile M. Cioran
A man who fears ridicule will never go far, for good or ill: he remains on this side of this talents, and even if he has genius, he is doomed to mediocrity.
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However much I have frequented the mystics, deep down I have always sided with the Devil unable to equal him in power, I have tried to be worthy of him, at least, in insolence, acrimony, arbitrariness and caprice.
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Under each formula lies a corpse.
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If truth were not boring, science would have done away with God long ago. But God as well as the saints is a means to escape the dull banality of truth.
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Boredom dismantles the mind, renders it superficial, out at the seams, saps it from within and dislocates it.
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Do I look like someone who has something to do here on earth?' —That's what I'd like to answer the busybodies who inquire into my activities.
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To think is to take a cunning revenge in which we camouflage our baseness and conceal our lower instincts.
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We are all deep in a hell each moment of which is a miracle.
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Truths begin by a conflict with the police - and end by calling them in.
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God: a disease we imagine we are cured of because no one dies of it nowadays.
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Write books only if you are going to say in them the things you would never dare confide to anyone.
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Music is the refuge of souls ulcerated by happiness.
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We define only out of despair, we must have a formula... to give a facade tot he void.
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One does not inhabit a country one inhabits a language. That is our country, our fatherland - and no other.
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Philosophy is a corrective against sadness. Yet there still are people who believe in the profundity of philosophy!
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Is it possible that existence is our exile and nothingness our home?
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I seem to myself, among civilized men, an intruder, a troglodyte enamored of decrepitude, plunged into subversive prayers.
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Melancholy redeems this universe, and yet it is melancholy that separates us from it.
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Utopia is a mixture of childish rationalism and secularized angelism.
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A civilization begins to decline the moment Life becomes its sole obsession.
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