Tumgik
acknowledgetheabsurd · 10 hours
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Albert Camus
18 notes · View notes
Quote
What I say to you is very serious and long meditated: the link which binds me to you is from now on that of life itself. If it is cut, it is agony and madness. I underline this to you and I write to you very coldly, with the certainty of those who have experienced what they say. Do this for me, will you? Put this letter aside and if one day you are tempted to reject me, read it again. It will tell you the truth that I discovered with fear one day: that, in spite of what I thought I was and in spite of all that I am apparently fulfilled with, I am nothing without you - only a desperate and now barren selfishness. You are life and what binds me to it. I owe you a new being in me, or rather the one I really was and which had never been born.
Albert Camus to Maria Casarès, Correspondance, February 10, 1950 [#183]
18 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
"Once they were on the pier they saw the sea spread out before them, a gently heaving expanse of deep-piled velvet, supple and sleek as a creature of the wild. They sat down on a boulder facing the open. Slowly the waters rose and sank, and with their tranquil breathing sudden oily glints formed and flickered over the surface in a haze of broken lights. Before them the darkness stretched out into infinity. Rieux could feel under his hand the gnarled, weather-worn visage of the rocks, and a strange happiness possessed him. Turning to Tarrou, he caught a glimpse on his friend's face of the same happiness, a happiness that forgot nothing, not even murder."
Albert Camus, The Plague
[x]
7 notes · View notes
Text
“I would look for examples of men of my age who were already dead. And I was tormented by the thought that I might not have time to accomplish my task. What task? I had no idea. Frankly, was what I was doing worth continuing?”
Albert Camus, The Fall
https://bookshop.org/a/12010/9780679720225
68 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Albert Camus, 1954.
Photo by Yousuf Karsh
24 notes · View notes
Text
You have closed all my paths, you have melted in you all my impulses and all my desires, you have erased for me the rest of the world that is not you; but the insatiable thirst still burns me and the race continues, more dizzy than ever. I want everything from you, and the more I am given, the more I demand with all my strength.
It is true that we still lack many things, but I wonder to what extent and if a few months or a few years ago I had been asked to make a wish which, if granted, would justify my life in my eyes, I would simply have wished to be one day closer to you than what I am today. You must not regret anything and you must not worry about me. I spoke to you in the letter that gave rise to the scruples that you are telling me today, about the children that I could have had. It is certain that sometimes I think of them, of our children, with a painful melancholy, but, believe me, I did not know enough about the happiness that they could bring me to really miss them and I desire them much less as my children than as yours, as ours.
The very impossibility of realizing this dream exalts and nourishes it, and if I had to give it up forever in order to live with you for a while, I would not hesitate. Yes, I wish that with all my soul, and no matter how hard I look, I can't find anything that can console me for our fate, that can reconcile me with the lack that our distance leaves in the happiness that was given to us. However, if I search well, if I really look, if I disguise myself from all these veils with which I want to wrap myself, then... I must confess that a common life which would neither bring nor take away anything, that once acquired, other deviations, other more serious gaps perhaps, would come to take the place it now occupies in my imagination, where it serves now a backdrop between far more irretrievable separations, ever impassable distances, and my inexhaustible need to abolish and bridge them.
So, you see, near or far, at this point, we can say that we have won, and whatever life has in store for us, it will have been very merciful. But if all these days spent preparing, thinking, creating those that will come and that would not be what they will be - if events had been different - had been offered to us in a way that we could have enjoyed them together and without torment, what would we have done with them? Are we sure that we would have taken them in such a way as not to lose a minute or even days or even months? Oh! I know! You're going to tell me that I'm doing the philosophy of a janitor or the psychology of a lamppost; but... it's necessary... it's necessary from time to time.
And, in any case, if you don't think like a lamppost and if you don't dream too much about mosses while reading this letter, you will perhaps feel that I am giving you one of the greatest proofs of love that can be demanded of me, by confessing certain things that I hardly dare to reveal to myself. Now you can let me speak when it happens that I escape again towards horizons of quiet happiness and peaceful life.
Go! I can still talk. And now you know that I know that you know what is deep, deep inside me. This does not prevent the spring from blooming what it touches, and my heart, my body, my soul from crying out after you, from suffering after you, from dying, from screaming, from laughing. And there is something that cannot resign itself to your absence, it is my poor little body that stretches out in vain towards you, that writhes, that whimpers and cries after you, my sad little body that stunts from day to day and that asks unceasingly to blossom, to warm up, to beat, to quiver.
Oh my beautiful, my dear love! Oh burning! O my sweet pain! O my life! Here I am filled with shivers, mysterious undulations, delicate and secret sounds. You wanted my letter to bring you a little warmth! It has awakened in me again all that dark and intimate zone that I love so much to feel just in my center, in my middle, that vibrating zone that moves me as much as the presence of a child in my belly, or even more, knowing it better. She has touched that tiny point in me, but which you know and love, and I tremble all over. Happy, oh yes, happy. Happy and overflowing with love, desire and tenderness. I am waiting for you every day. I run too; I run unceasingly towards you. The coast is coming to an end, my darling. Soon the sight of the sea, and then the beach and the waves.
Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 10, 1950 [#182]
23 notes · View notes
Text
My current silence interests only me. It touches too many parts of my personal life for me to explain it to you.
Albert Camus, from Notebooks (1951-1959), Vol 3.
107 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
“I looked up at the mass of signs and stars in the night sky and laid myself open for the first time to the benign indifference of the world.” ― Albert Camus, The Stranger
Painting by Rinat Voligamsi
68 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Camus: "I have never felt more full of strength and life. The enormous joy that fills me would raise the world..."
Casarès: " All my life will fall short to love you...'
~~~♡♥︎~~~
"If Albert was a Don Juan, Maria was a Don Juana." ~ Oliver Todd
"Love that is not madness is not love." ~ Pedro Calderón de la Barca
Duo CamCasa: Costume Rehearsal at the Angers Festival; Play "Devotion to the Cross" by Pedro Calderón de la Barca; dramaturgy and direction: AlbertCamus; photographer: Emile Muller, 1953
15 notes · View notes
Quote
There is something that cannot resign itself to your absence, it is my poor little body that stretches out in vain towards you, that writhes, that whimpers and cries after you, my sad little body that stunts from day to day and that asks unceasingly to blossom, to warm up, to beat, to quiver. Oh my beautiful, my dear love! Oh burning! O my sweet pain! O my life! Here I am filled with shivers, mysterious undulations, delicate and secret sounds. You wanted my letter to bring you a little warmth! It has awakened in me again all that dark and intimate zone that I love so much to feel just in my center, in my middle, that vibrating zone that moves me as much as the presence of a child in my belly, or even more, knowing it better. She has touched that tiny point in me, but which you know and love, and I tremble all over. Happy, oh yes, happy. Happy and overflowing with love, desire and tenderness. I am waiting for you every day. I run too; I run unceasingly towards you. The coast is coming to an end, my darling. Soon the sight of the sea, and then the beach and the waves.
Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 10, 1950 [#182]
21 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
my 1960s copies of albert camus' works
304 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Create Dangerously
Albert Camus
57 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
99 notes · View notes
Quote
Yes, I wish that with all my soul, and no matter how hard I look, I can't find anything that can console me for our fate, that can reconcile me with the lack that our distance leaves in the happiness that was given to us. However, if I search well, if I really look, if I disguise myself from all these veils with which I want to wrap myself, then... I must confess that a common life which would neither bring nor take away anything, that once acquired, other deviations, other more serious gaps perhaps, would come to take the place it now occupies in my imagination, where it serves now a backdrop between far more irretrievable separations, ever impassable distances, and my inexhaustible need to abolish and bridge them.
Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, February 10, 1950 [#182]
21 notes · View notes
Text
Cadernos Albert Camus (Tilibra)
Capas:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Folha de Adesivos:
Universitário Espiral:
Tumblr media
Universitário Brochura:
Tumblr media
1/4 Brochura
Tumblr media
Agenda Diária
Tumblr media
Caderneta 1/8
Tumblr media
Caderno College
Tumblr media
Cartografia e Desenho
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
19 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes