Albert Camus Quotes

We relate all our afflictions more frequently than we do our pleasures.

Misery don't call ahead. That's why you have to stay awake - otherwise it just walks on in your door.

A dead grief is easier to bear than a live trouble.

The more unhappy you are, the more miserable you are, the more you're going to suffer.

I'd rather be mad than feel pleasure.

You encountered a misery near the end of the day and it took a while to gauge its full extent. Some miseries had sharp curvature and could be negotiated readily. Others had almost no curvature and you knew you'd be spending hours turning the corner. Great whopping-big planet-sized miseries.

There's no way that I know of to avoid pain absolutely, but suffering is the interpretation we choose to place on the pain we encounter.

A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.

Misery and shame are nearly allied.

Any expectation is what pain is.

My father's death, my move, and my frightening and difficult delivery created a tremendous amount of stress, pain, and sadness for me. I was practically devastated beyond recovery.

Part of every misery is, so to speak, the misery's shadow or reflection: the fact that you don't merely suffer but have to keep on thinking about the fact that you suffer. I not only live each endless day in grief, but live each day thinking about living each day in grief.

I don't like bad feelings gnawing away at me.

I went through a lot of hard times. I went through a lot of struggle. A few times, I was in tears. It brought me to my knees just about.

There's never any ebb in human misery.

There is too much unhappiness in football, no?

Oh, darling, I've been so miserable.

Well, I git enough sorrow. I like to git away from it.

Unhappiness is too common to call for special measures.

Affliction hardens and discourages us because, like a red hot iron, it stamps the soul to its very depths with the scorn, the disgust, and even the self-hatred and sense of guilt that crime logically should produce but actually does not.

My misery is reaching epidemic proportions.

Unhappiness was my god.

After each dream, Frankie woke with a start, soaked in tears. But she found no relief in the peaceful silence of her room, because there everything was real. And the guilt was too immense to bear. Each time she opened her eyes, she'd quickly shut them. And wish that she had woken up for the very last time.

You know, if my life was a horse, I’d shoot it. (Susan)

I am a man of constant sorrow. I've seen trouble all my days.