Albert Camus Quotes

The human heart has hidden treasures, In secret kept, in silence sealed.

Even if your body doesn't work the way it used to, the heart and the mind and the spirit are not diminished.

Fundamentally speaking, bodies age; feelings don't.

The human heart is my school.

The human heart was undeniably the stupidest organ in the body.

A heart's a hard thing to live without. I should know. I've tried it," he said.

This organ deserves to be styled the starting point of life and the sun of our microcosm just as much as the sun deserves to be styled the heart of the world. For it is by the heart's vigorous beat that the blood is moved, perfected, activated, and protected from injury and coagulation. The heart is the tutelary deity of the body, the basis of life, the source of all things, carrying out its function of nourishing, warming, and activating body as a whole. But we shall more fittingly speak of these matters when we consider the final cause of this kind of movement.

Did you think that rats do not have hearts? Wrong. All living things have a heart. And the heart of any living thing can be broken.

The workings of the human heart are the profoundest mystery of the universe.

The human heart was such a complex organ, fragile and sturdy all at once.

Who invented the human heart, I wonder? Tell me, and then show me the place where he was hanged.

As it turns out, you can function while your heart is being torn to shreds.

You can't just turn your heart off like a faucet; you have to go to the source and dry it out, drop by drop.

Though the human heart may have to pause for rest when climbing the heights of affection it rarely stops on the slippery slope of hatred.

Ah! Seigneur! donnez-moi la force et le courage De contempler mon coeur et mon corps sans de go u" t. Lord! give me the strength and the courage To see my heart and my body without disgust.

Every night I cut out my heart. But in the morning it was full again

The heart is a very, very resilient little muscle. It really is.

But my heart is always propped up in a field on its tripod, ready for the next arrow.

The heart is long, very long in receiving the convictions that is forced upon it by reason... affection still lingers in the Bosom, even after esteem has taken its flight.

Fear both the heat and the cold of your heart, and strive for patience, if you can.

Memory, wit, fancy, acuteness, cannot grow young again in old age, but the heart can.

My heart was beating like an army on the march.

When in many dissections, carried out as opportunity offered upon living animals, I first addressed my mind to seeing how I could discover the function and offices of the heart's movement in animals through the use of my own eyes instead of through the books and writings of others, I kept finding the matter so truly hard and beset with difficulties that I all but thought, with Fracastoro, that the heart's movement had been understood by God alone.

Some attribute had departed from her, the permanence of which had been essential to keep her a woman. Such is frequently the fate, and such the stern development, of the feminine character and person, when the woman has encountered, and lived through, an experience of peculiar severity. If she be all tenderness, she will die. If she survive, the tenderness will either be crushed out of her, or—and the outward semblance is the same—crushed so deeply into her heart that it can never show itself more.