The Fall

by Albert Camus

Consequently I was considered generous, and so I was.

I was of respectable but humble birth (my father was an officer), and yet, certain mornings, let me confess it humbly, I felt like a king’s son,

Don’t think for a minute that your friends will telephone you every evening, as they ought to, in order to find out if this doesn’t happen to be the evening when you are deciding to commit suicide,

But do you know why we are always more just and more generous toward the dead? The reason is simple. With them there is no obligation.

That’s the way man is, cher monsieur. He has two faces: he can’t love without self-love.

When I would leave a blind man on the sidewalk to which I had convoyed him, I used to tip my hat to him. Obviously the hat tipping wasn’t intended for him, since he couldn’t see it. To whom was it addressed? To the public.

I, I, I is the refrain of my whole life, which could be heard in everything I said.

The truth is that every intelligent man, as you know, dreams of being a gangster and of ruling over society by force alone.

You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question.

In short, for me to live happily it was essential for the creatures I chose not to live at all. They must receive their life, sporadically, only at my bidding.

Men are never convinced of your reasons, of your sincerity, of the seriousness of your sufferings, except by your death.

Martyrs, cher ami, must choose between being forgotten, mocked, or made use of. As for being understood—never!

Your successes and happiness are forgiven you only if you generously consent to share them. But to be happy it is essential not to be too concerned with others. Consequently, there is no escape. Happy and judged, or absolved and wretched.

We are all exceptional cases. We all want to appeal against something! Each of us insists on being innocent at all cost, even if he has to accuse the whole human race and heaven itself.

divide human beings into three categories: those who prefer having nothing to hide rather than being obliged to lie, those who prefer lying to having nothing to hide, and finally those who like both lying and the hidden.

The more I accuse myself, the more I have a right to judge you. Even better, I provoke you into judging yourself, and this relieves me of that much of the burden.