We turn our backs on nature; we are ashamed of beauty. Our wretched tragedies have a smell of the office clinging to them, and the blood that trickles from them is the color of printer's ink.
Albert CamusAh! my friend, for whomever is alone, without a god and without a master, the weight of time is terrible. One must then choose a master, God being out of style.
Albert CamusI was assailed by memories of a life that wasn't mine anymore, but one in which I'd found the simplest and most lasting joys.
Albert Camus