The Fall

by Albert Camus

Do you have any possessions? Some? Good. Have you shared them with the poor? No? Then you are what I call a Sadducee.

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.

The idea that comes most naturally to man, as if from his very nature, is the idea of his innocence.

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.

I longed to be forgotten in order to be able to complain to myself.

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.