Albert Camus Quotes About Exile

• We all carry within us places of exile, our crimes, our ravages. Our task is not to unleash them on the world; it is to transform them in ourselves and others.

  Albert Camus

  Tasks, World, Crime

• In a universe suddenly divested of illusion and lights, man feels an alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land.

  Albert Camus

  Memories, Fear, Home

  Albert Camus (2012). “The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays”, p.6, Vintage

• ... one cannot be happy in exile or in oblivion. One cannot always be a stranger. I want to return to my homeland, make all my loved ones happy. I see no further than this.

  Albert Camus

  Want, Return, Stranger

• I am too far away from what I love and my distance is without remedy.

  Albert Camus

  Distance, Far Away, Alienation

• To live is to hurt others, and through others, to hurt oneself. Cruel earth! How can we manage not to touch anything? To find what ultimate exile?

  Albert Camus

  Hurt, Earth, Injury

  Albert Camus (1987). “American journals”

• They came to know the incorrigible sorrow of all prisoners and exiles, which is to live in company with a memory that serves no purpose.

  Albert Camus

  Memories, Sorrow, Purpose

  Albert Camus (1960). “The plague: translated from the French”

• ... I suppose that it is not so easy to go home and it takes a bit of time to make a son out of a stranger.

  Albert Camus

  Family, Home, Son

• Over there, in Europe, all was shame and anger. Here it was exile or solitude, among these languid and agitated madmen who danced in order to die.

  Albert Camus

  Anger, Order, Europe

• What, then, is that incalculable feeling that deprives the mind of the sleep necessary to life? A world that can be explained even with bad reasons is a familiar world. But, on the other hand, in a universe suddenly divested of illusions and lights, man feels an alien, a stranger. His exile is without remedy since he is deprived of the memory of a lost home or the hope of a promised land. This divorce between man and his life, the actor and his setting, is properly the feeling of absurdity.

  Albert Camus

  Memories, Sleep, Divorce

  Albert Camus (2012). “The Myth of Sisyphus: And Other Essays”, p.6, Vintage

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