Emil Cioran Quotes

My heart beat Beats me senselessly Why's everything Gotta be so intense with me.

The deeper the feeling, the greater the pain

I’ve been feeling something else. Like I’m about to be sucked into something powerful and painful.

Is it any wonder, since, when near the fire, I was melted and burned, if now that it's extinguished outside me, it besets and consumes me inside, and bit by bit reduces me to ashes?

The dimensions of my feelings are too violent.

What is a poet? An unhappy person who conceals profound anguish in his heart but whose lips are so formed that as sighs and cries pass over them they sound like beautiful music.

When something really hits me, it makes me want to either jump off something really high or lie down and be buried. I want people to get hit and caught by my music.

My daughter was two weeks old when I wrote 'White Wine in the Sun.' I can remember just sobbing and having to leave the room.

Mix an anorexic body with a heart made of pure fire and you are going to go with a savagery that's hard to explain.

You'd be amazed at the pain and tears a single smile hides.

Under the skin, intense fires burn.

I felt the mask crumple, the great poisonous store of corrosive ashes begin to spew out of my mouth.

I feel too much. It's like being drummed to death from within. You know?

The way sadness works is one of the strange riddles of the world. If you are stricken with a great sadness, you may feel as if you have been set aflame, not only because of the enormous pain, but also because your sadness may spread over your life, like smoke from an enormous fire.

Look at it this way: There are many here among us for whom the life force is best represented by the livid twitching of one tortured nerve, or even a full-scale anxiety attack. I do not subscribe to this point of view 100 percent, but I understand it, have lived it. Thus the shriek, the caterwaul, the chainsaw gnarlgnashing, the yowl and the whizz that decapitates may be reheard by the adventurous or emotionally damaged as mellifluous bursts of unarguable affirmation.

Said I loved you but I lied, cause this is more than love I feel inside.

Concealed sorrow bursts the heart, and rages within us as an internal fire.

Laughter isn't even the other side of tears. It is tears turned inside out. Truly the suffering is great, here on earth.

Alice started to cry. It came with no sound, no shuddering, no childlike hysterics, just a soul-deep release that turned into moisture and dripped down her puffy pink cheeks. She touched her tears, frowning. Then she looked up at Julia and whimpered two words before she fell asleep. ‘Real hurts.’

I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.

It is as if my heart and my brain did not belong to the same person. Feelings come quicker than lightning and fill my soul, but they bring me no illumination; they burn me and dazzle me.

There are moments when our passions speak and decide for us ... like a fire kindled within our being to which everything else in us is mere fuel.

We burn so hard, but we shed so little light; it makes us crazy and sad.

When I look at my life and its secret colors, I feel like bursting into tears.