...the habit of despair is worse than despair itself.

I know of only one duty, and that is to love.

A lot of jobs don't allow you to be who you are. There is dignity in work only when it is work freely accepted.

The absurd hero's refusal to hope becomes his singular ability to live in the present with passion.

The truth is that nothing is less sensational than pestilence, and by reason of their very duration great misfortunes are monotonous.

Since the order of the world is shaped by death, mightn't it be better for God if we refuse to believe in Him, and struggle with all our might against death without raising our eyes towards the heaven where He sits in silence?

The absurd is lucid reason noting its limits.