When we cannot be delivered from ourselves, we delight in devouring ourselves. — Emile M. Cioran Delight Copy Share Image
In the hours without sleep, each moment is so full and so vacant that it suggests itself as a rival of Time. — Emile M. Cioran Hours Copy Share Image
Speech and silence. We feel safer with a madman who talks than with one who cannot open his mouth. — Emile M. Cioran Feels Copy Share Image
Melancholy redeems this universe, and yet it is melancholy that separates us from it. — Emile M. Cioran Inspirational Copy Share Image
A sensation must have fallen very low to deign to turn into an idea. — Emile M. Cioran Fallen Copy Share Image
We are born to Exist, not to know, to be, not to assert ourselves. — Emile M. Cioran Birth Copy Share Image
No one can keep his griefs in their prime; they use themselves up. — Emile M. Cioran Death Copy Share Image
By what aberration has suicide, the only truly normal action, become the attribute of the flawed? — Emile M. Cioran Aberration Copy Share Image
What to think of other people? I ask myself this question each time I make a new acquaintance. So strange does it… — Emile M. Cioran Acquaintance Copy Share Image
Man must vanquish himself, must do himself violence, in order to perform the slightest action untainted by evil. — Emile M. Cioran Action Copy Share Image
Old age, after all, is merely the punishment for having lived. — Emile M. Cioran Age Copy Share Image
On Creating — What we crave, what we want to see in others eyes, is that servile expression, an unconcealed infatuation with… — Emile M. Cioran Crave Copy Share Image
Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because… — Emile M. Cioran Constant Copy Share Image
A book has to dig through the wounds, more, it has cause a new one, a book it has to be dangerous. — Emile M. Cioran Book Copy Share Image
Life is merely a fracas on an unmapped terrain, and the universe a geometry stricken with epilepsy. — Emile M. Cioran Epilepsy Copy Share Image
The history of ideas is the history of the grudges of solitary men. — Emile M. Cioran Grudge Copy Share Image
The aphorism is cultivated only by those who have known fear in the midst of words, that fear of collapsing with all… — Emile M. Cioran Aphorism Copy Share Image
God - a disease we imagine we are cured of because no one dies of it nowadays. — Emile M. Cioran Dies Copy Share Image
Our place is somewhere between being and nonbeing - between two fictions. — Emile M. Cioran Fiction Copy Share Image
