The gods had condemned Sisyphus to ceaselessly rolling a rock to the top of a mountain, whence the stone would fall back of its own weight. They had thought with some reason that there is no more dreadful punishment than futile and hopeless labor.

One always has exaggerated ideas about what one doesn't know.

And so I learned that familiar paths traced in the dusk of summer evenings may lead as well to prison as to innocent untroubled sleep.

There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide.

At times I feel myself overtaken by an immense tenderness for these people around me who live in the same century.

Poverty, first of all was never a misfortune for me; it was radiant with sunlight.. I owe it to my family, first of all, who lacked everything and who envied practically nothing.

To feel absolutely right is the beginning of the end.