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A man should be resigned to knowing himself a little better each day if he hasn't got the guts to put an end to his sniveling once and for all.

Louis-Ferdinand Celine

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Louis-Ferdinand Celine
Age: 67 †
Born: 1894
Born: May 27
Died: 1961
Died: July 1
Military Personnel
Novelist
Obstetrician
Physician Writer
Playwright
Writer
Olean
New York
Dr. Louis Ferdinand Auguste Destouches
Louis Ferdinand Destouches
Lui-Ferdinand Selin
L.-F. Selin
L.-F. Céline
Louis-Ferdinand Celine
L.-F. Celine
Louis Ferdinand Céline
Better
Little
Sniveling
Men
Resigned
Guts
Hasn
Knowing
Ends
Littles

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Experience is a dim lamp, which only lights the one who bears it.
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My trouble is insomnia. If I had always slept properly, I'd never have written a line.
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So many vaginas, stomachs, cocks, snouts, and flies you don't know what to do with them ... shovelsfull! ... but hearts? ... very rare! in the last five hundred million years too many cocks and gastric tubes to count ... but hearts? ... on your fingers!.
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To philosophize is only another way of being afraid and leads hardly anywhere but to cowardly make-believe.
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I'd seen too many troubling things to be easy in my mind. I knew too much and not enough. I'd better go out, I said to myself, I'd better go out again.
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We've no use for intellectuals in this outfit. What we need is chimpanzees. Let me give you a word of advice: never say a word to us about being intelligent. We will think for you, my friend. Don't forget it.
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The beginning of genius is being scared shitless.
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When you stop to examine the way in which our words are formed and uttered, our sentences are hard-put to it to survive the disaster of their slobbery origins.
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We never change. Neither our socks nor our masters nor our opinions, or we're so slow about it that it's no use. We were born loyal and that's what killed us! Soldiers free of charge, heroes for everyone else, talking monkeys, tortured words, we are the minions of King Misery...It's not a life.
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An Immense hatred keeps me alive... i would live for a thousand years if i were certain of seeing the whole world croak.
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All that makes a lunatic are the very ordinary ideas of mankind shut up inside a man's head.
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Not much music left inside us for life to dance to. Our youth has gone to the ends of the earth to die in the silence of the truth. And where, I ask you, can a man escape to, when he hasn't enough madness left inside him? The truth is an endless death agony. The truth is death. You have to choose: death or lies. I've never been able to kill myself.
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A God who counts minutes and pennies, a desperate sensual God, who grunts like a pig. A pig with golden wings, who falls and falls, always belly side up, ready for caresses, that’s him, our master. Come, kiss me.
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One can't relive one's life. Forgiveness is not what's difficult one's always too ready to forgive. And it does no good, that's obvious.
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People don't deserve the restraint we show by not going into delirium in front of them.
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Reason died in 1914, November 1914 ... after that everybody began to rave.
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Chin up, Ferdinand, I kept saying to myself, to keep up my courage. What with being chucked out of everywhere, you're sure to find whatever it is that scares all those bastards so. It must be at the end of the night, and that's why they're so dead set against going to the end of the night.
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Philosophizing is simply one way of being afraid, a cowardly pretense that doesn't get you anywhere.
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Well, you know... experience is a muffled lantern that throws light only on the bearer...it's incommunicable.
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I piss on you all from a considerable height.
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