A man wants to earn money in order to be happy, and his whole effort and the best of a life are devoted to the earning of that money. Happiness is forgotten; the means are taken for the end.
Why should it be essential to love rarely in order to love much?
Martyrs, my friend, have to choose between being forgotten, mocked or used. As for being understood - never.
The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.
For if there is a sin against life, it consists perhaps not so much in despairing of life as in hoping for another life and in eluding the implacable grandeur of this life.
A guilty conscience needs to confess. A work of art is a confession.