The absurd is essentially a divorce. It lies in neither of the elements compared; it is born of their confrontation.

There is not a single true work of art that has not in the end added to the inner freedom insight and life of each person who has known and loved it.

O light! This the cry of all the characters of ancient drama brought face to face with their fate. This last resort was ours, too, and I knew it now. In the middle of winter I at last discovered that there was in me an invincible summer.

There always comes a time when one must choose between contemplation and action. This is called becoming a man.

Yes, and when the love of life disappears, no meaning can console us.

In the world today, only a philosophy of eternity could justify non-violence.

There is in me an anarchy and frightful disorder. Creating makes me die a thousand deaths, because it means making order, and my entire being rebels against order. But without it I would die, scattered to the winds.