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You cannot protect your solitude if you cannot make yourself odious.
Emile M. Cioran
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Emile M. Cioran
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Solitude
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More quotes by Emile M. Cioran
Basis of society: anonymous sweat.
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It is an understatement to say that in this society injustices abound: in truth, it is itself the quintessence of injustice.
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I don’t understand how people can believe in God, even when I myself think of him everyday.
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For a long time—always, in fact—I have known that life here on earth is not what I needed and that I wasn’t able to deal with it for this reason and for this reason alone, I have acquired a touch of spiritual pride, so that my existence seems to me the degradation and the erosion of a psalm.
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A sensation must have fallen very low to deign to turn into an idea.
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Once you see that everything is unreal, you can't see why you should bother to prove it.
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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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Woes and wonders of power, that tonic hell, synthesis of poison and panacea.
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Wisdom disguises our wounds it teaches us how to bleed in secret.
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Democracy: a festival of mediocrity.
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Old age, after all, is merely the punishment for having lived.
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The fear of your own solitude, of its vast surface and its infinity… Remorse is the voice of solitude. And what does this whispering voice say? Everything in us that is not human anymore.
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No one recovers from the disease of being born, a deadly wound if there ever was one.
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Life is merely a fracas on an unmapped terrain, and the universe a geometry stricken with epilepsy.
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Under each formula lies a corpse.
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Life without utopia is suffocating, for the multitude at least: threatened otherwise with petrifaction, the world must have a new madness.
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On Creating — What we crave, what we want to see in others eyes, is that servile expression, an unconcealed infatuation with our gestures.
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I never met one interesting mind that was not richly endowed with inadmissible deficiencies.
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Society: an inferno of saviors!
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How good would it be if one could die by throwing oneself into an infinite void.
Emile M. Cioran