Shame on the man who goes to his grave escorted by the miserable hopes that have kept him alive.
Emile M. CioranManiacs of Procreation, bipeds with devalued faces, we have lost all appeal for each other.
Emile M. CioranConsider love: is there a nobler outpouring, a rapture less suspect? Its shudders rival music, compete with the tears of solitude and of ecstasy: sublime...but a sublimity inseperable from the urinary tract: transports bordering upon excretion, a heaven of the glands, sudden sancitity of the orifices. It takes no more than a moment of attention for this intoxication, shaken, to cast you back into the ordures of physiology or a moment of fatigue to recognize that so much ardor produces only a variety of mucous.
Emile M. Cioran