Romanian - Philosopher | April 8, 1911 - June 20, 1995
Philosophers write for professors; thinkers for writers.
Emil Cioran
WriteProfessorsThinkersWriters
Our works, whatever they may be, derive from our incapacity to kill or to kill ourselves.
WhateverMayOurOurselvesWorks
Word - that invisible dagger.
InvisibleWordDagger
Who Rebels? Who rises in arms? Rarely the slave, but almost always the oppressor turned slave.
OppressorAlwaysSlaveArmsAlmost
Sperm is a bandit in its pure state.
PureStateSpermBandit
Imaginary pains are by far the most real we suffer, since we feel a constant need for them and invent them because there is no way of doing without them.
FeelDoingWayNeedRealWithout
The fact that life has no meaning is a reason to live - moreover, the only one.
LifeLiveMeaningReasonOnlyFact
Life inspires more dread than death - it is life which is the great unknown.
LifeGreatDeathUnknownMoreThan
We die in proportion to the words we fling around us.
WordsDieUsAroundProportion
Nothing proves that we are more than nothing.
NothingMoreThanProves
So long as man is protected by madness - he functions - and flourishes.
ManMadnessLongHeFunctions
Society is not a disease, it is a disaster. What a stupid miracle that one can live in it.
LiveStupidSocietyDisasterMiracle
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