My chief occupation, despite appearances, has always been love.
Interpretation
The primary focus of my life has been love, even if it seems otherwise.
In this quote, Albert Camus emphasizes that love is the core purpose of his life, suggesting that despite any outward distractions or occupations, the essence of his being is centered around love. This reflects the importance of love as a driving force in life, highlighting how it shapes one's experiences and intentions, often beneath the surface of everyday actions and roles.
In practice
In a speech about the importance of relationships, one might use this quote to emphasize what truly matters.
The Poor Man whom everyone speaks of, the Poor Man whom everyone pities, one of the repulsive Poor from whom charitable souls keep their distance, he has still said nothing. Or, rather, he has spoken through the voice of Victor Hugo, Zola, Richepin. At least, they said so. And these shameful impostures fed their authors. Cruel irony, the Poor Man tormented with hunger feeds those who plead his case.
The certainty of a God giving meaning to life far surpasses in attractiveness the ability to behave badly with impunity. The choice would not be hard to make. But there is no choice and that is where the bitterness comes in. The absurd does not liberate; it binds.
Between history and the eternal I have chosen history because I like certainties. Of it, at least, I am certain, and how can I deny this force crushing me.
Don't wait for the last judgment - it takes place every day.
A single sentence will suffice for modern man. He fornicated and read the papers. After that vigorous definition, the subject will be, if I may say so, exhausted.
At times I feel myself overtaken by an immense tenderness for these people around me who live in the same century.
If one less kid can grow up without hiding who they are along the way or having to believe that who they love is something that will make them lonely, then everything I went through will be worth it.
I thought I knew what love was before giving birth to my baby, but whatever I had experienced in the past paled in comparison to the utterly unconditional love I immediately felt for the little bundle I now held in my arms.
Fear secretes acids; but love and trust are sweet juices.
How is it that we do not die of love in seeing that God Himself could do no more than shed His divine blood for us drop by drop? When as man He was preparing for death, He made Himself our food in order to give us life. God becomes food, bread for his creatures. Is this not enough to make us die of love?
The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.
I think... if it is true that there are as many minds as there are heads, then there are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.
Subscribe for the occasional hand-picked quote. No noise.