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Quote by Albert Camus

“But the summer city herself had been emptied of her laughter and offered me only bent and shining backs. In the evening, in the crudely lighted cafes where I took refuge, I read my age in faces I recognized without being able to name them. I merely knew that they had been young with me and that they were no longer so.”

Quote by Albert Camus

Book:The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
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Work

The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays

This book is a compilation of essays that delve into the philosophical concepts of existentialism, focusing on the human experience and the meaning of life. It includes discussions on the nature of existence, the absurdity of life, and the role of individual freedom and responsibility. more

Author

Albert Camus
Albert Camus

Albert Camus was a French author and philosopher, born on November 7, 1913, and died on January 4, 1960. Known for his unique existentialist philosophy and profound insights into human suffering, Camus' works include 'The Stranger', 'The Plague', and 'The Myth of Sisyphus', which have had a profound impact on 20th-century literature. more

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“No love without a little innocence. Where was the innocence? Empires were tumbling down; nations and men were tearing at one another’s throats; our hands were soiled. Originally innocent without knowing it, we were now guilty without meaning to be: the mystery was increasing with our knowledge. This is why, O mockery, we were concerned with morality. Weak and disabled, I was dreaming of virtue! In the days of innocence I didn’t even know that morality existed. I knew it now, and I was not capable of living up to its standard.”

Albert CamusThe Myth Of Sisyphus
Book:The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
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“It seemed as if the morning were stabilized, the sun stopped for an incalculable moment. In this light and this silence, years of wrath and night melted slowly away. I listened to an almost forgotten sound within myself as if my heart, long stopped, were calmly beginning to beat again. And awake now, I recognized one by one the imperceptible sounds of which the silence was made up: the figured bass of the birds, the sea’s faint, brief sighs at the foot of the rocks, the vibration of the trees, the blind singing of the columns, the rustling of the wormwood plants, the furtive lizards. I heard that; I also listened to the happy torrents rising within me. It seemed to me that I had at last come to harbor, for a moment at least, and that henceforth that moment would be endless.”

Albert CamusThe Myth Of Sisyphus
Book:The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays
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