The premonition of madness is complicated by the fear of lucidity in madness, the fear of the moments of return and reunion... One would welcome chaos if one were not afraid of lights in it.
Emile M. CioranRead
To get up in the morning, wash and then wait for some unforeseen variety of dread or depression. I would give the whole universe and all of Shakespeare for a grain of ataraxy.
Interpretation
The quote reflects a deep sense of existential dread and a longing for peace of mind.
Emile M. Cioran expresses the struggle of daily life marred by feelings of dread and depression. He highlights the burden of waking each day only to face the potential for despair, suggesting that he would be willing to sacrifice everything for a moment of tranquility, referred to as 'ataraxy.' This conveys a profound commentary on the human condition and the search for inner peace amid life’s inevitable struggles.
In practice
This quote can be shared during a mental health awareness event to highlight the struggles many face daily.
The premonition of madness is complicated by the fear of lucidity in madness, the fear of the moments of return and reunion... One would welcome chaos if one were not afraid of lights in it.
We are afraid of the enormity of the possible.
There was a time when time did not yet exist. … The rejection of birth is nothing but the nostalgia for this time before time.
A marvel that has nothing to offer, democracy is at once a nation's paradise and its tomb.
Paradise was unendurable, otherwise the first man would have adapted to it; this world is no less so, since here we regret paradise or anticipate another one. What to do? Where to go? Do nothing and go nowhere, easy enough.
It is not worth the bother of killing yourself, since you always kill yourself too late.
Those thinkers who cannot believe in any gods often assert that the love of humanity would be in itself sufficient for them; and so, perhaps, it would, if they had it.
She learned the intricacy of loneliness: the horror of color, the roar of soundlessness and the menace of familiar objects lying still.
Since that deluge of newspaper articles I have been so flooded with questions, invitations, suggestions, that I keep dreaming I am roasting in Hell, and the mailman is the devil eternally yelling at me, showering me with more bundles of letters at my head because I have not answered the old ones.
If you say, Well, OK, I don't believe in God. There's no evidence of God, then you're missing the stars in the sky and you're missing the sunrises and sunsets and you're missing the fact that bees pollinate all these crops and keep us alive and the way that everything seems to work together. Everything is sort of built in a way that to me suggests intelligent design.
Spirits that live throughout, Vital in every part, not as frail man, In entrails, heart or head, liver or reins, Cannot but by annihilating die.
In the post-individualistic era, science and spirituality will become allies, and human beings will realize a vast potentiality now only dimly felt.
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