“A harmonious being cannot believe in God. Saints, criminals, and paupers have launched him, making him available to all unhappy people.” — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“Eu nu am idei ci obsesii. Idei poate avea oricine. Nimeni nu s-a prăbușit din cauza ideilor.” — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“For a long while I have lived with the notion that I was the most normal being that ever existed. This notion gave me the taste, even the passion for being unproductive: what was the use of being prized in a world inhabited by madmen, a world mired in mania and stupidity? For whom was one to bother, and to… — Emil Cioran Copy Share
“Natura s-a arătat darnică numai cu cei pe care i-a scutit de obsesia morţii. Dacă-i firesc să mori, nu-i deloc firesc să zaboveşti asupra… — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“Having always lived in fear of being surprised by the worst, I have tried in every circumstance to get a head start, flinging myself… — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“We had nothing to say to one another, and while I was manufacturing my phrases I felt that earth was falling through space and… — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“It is no sign of benediction to have been obsessed with the lives of saints, for it is an obsession intertwined with a taste for maladies and hunger for depravities. One only troubles oneself with saints because one has been disappointed by the paradoxes of earthly life; one therefore searches out other paradoxes, more outlandish in guise, redolent of unknown… — Emil Cioran Copy Share
“His power to adore is responsible for all his crimes: a man who loves a god unduly forces other men to love his god,… — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
One should live and die where one was born... I've been bored everywhere I went. What was the point of leaving Coasta Boacu? — Emil Cioran Copy Share Image
“I cannot imagine that there could be someone whose childhood could compare to mine. The sky and the earth belonged to me, literally, even my apprehensions were joyful: I would get up and go to bed as master of creation. I was conscious of my happiness and could forsee that I was going to lose it. A secret fear was… — Emil Cioran Copy Share
