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Philosophizing is simply one way of being afraid, a cowardly pretense that doesn't get you anywhere.
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
Pretense
Cowardly
Anywhere
Afraid
Simply
Doesn
Way
Philosophizing
More quotes by Louis-Ferdinand Celine
Reason died in 1914, November 1914 ... after that everybody began to rave.
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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.
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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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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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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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The sadness of the world has different ways of getting to people, but it seems to succeed almost every time.
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There is no rest for the humble except in despising the great, whose only thought of the people is inspired by self-interest or sadism.
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All in all, death is something like marriage.
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In my room I'd barely closed my eyes when the blonde from the movie house came along and sang her whole song of sorrow just for me. I helped her put me to sleep, so to speak, and succeeded pretty well... I wasn't entirely alone... It's not possible to sleep alone.
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The mind is satisfied with phrased, but not the body, the body is more fastidious, it wants muscles. A body always tells the truth, that's why it's usually depressing and disgusting to look at.
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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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All that makes a lunatic are the very ordinary ideas of mankind shut up inside a man's head.
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Our journey is entirely imaginary. That is its strength.
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For the poor of this world, two major ways of expiring are available: either by the absolute indifference of your fellow-men in peace-time, or by the homicidal passion of these same when war breaks out.
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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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Life is filigree work. What is written clearly is not worth much, it's the transparency that counts.
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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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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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To philosophize is only another way of being afraid and leads hardly anywhere but to cowardly make-believe.
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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!.
Louis-Ferdinand Celine