Lightly child, lightly.

we have lost track of the light,
the mornings,
the holy innocence of those who forgive themselves.

— Albert Camus, The Fall (Vintage Books, 1957)



  • Art:  (via mennyfox55). Quote: Vale of Soul Making
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Vintage 1942: The more things change, the more they…


Every time I hear a political speech or I read those of our leaders, I am horrified at having, for years, heard nothing which sounded human. It is always the same words telling the same lies. And the fact that men accept this, that the people’s anger has not destroyed these hollow clowns, strikes me as proof that men attribute no importance to the way they are governed […]”

– Albert Camus, Notebooks, 1935-1942 

Notes: Quote Source – Schonwiener. Photo: George Horner on The Bowery Billboard (via this isn’t happiness)

Be silent. Listen. Let it overflow.



This whole thing is not about heroism. It’s about decency.


Roger Cohen, NY Times: Mow The Law:

[…] I am less interested in the inspirational hero than I am in the myriad doers of everyday good who would shun the description heroic; less interested in the exhortation to “live your dream” than in the obligation to make a living wage.

In Camus’ book, “The Plague,” the doctor at the center of the novel, Bernard Rieux, battles pestilence day after day. It is a Sisyphean task. At one point he says, “I have to tell you this: This whole thing is not about heroism. It’s about decency. It may seem a ridiculous idea, but the only way to fight the plague is with decency.”

Asked what decency is, he responds: “In general, I can’t say, but in my case I know that it consists of doing my job.” Later, he adds, “I don’t think I have any taste for heroism and sainthood. What interests me is to be a man.”

In the everyday task at hand, for woman or man, happiness lurks.

Don’t miss entire op-ed column by Roger Cohen, Mow The Law

MMM.* No reason to say: ‘It had to be.’


I shall not grow resigned.
With all my silence,
I shall protest to the very end.
There is no reason to say:
‘It had to be.’
It is my revolt which is right,
and it must follow this joy
which is like a pilgrim on earth,
follow it step by step.

— Albert Camus, Notebooks 1935-1942 Vol. 1

Notes: 1) MMM* = Monday Morning Mantra. 2) Photograph by Jordan Tiberio via eikadan 3) Quote: Et in Arcadia Ego* and Google Books

The watcher and the watched


An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it. An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself. I like this, because I am happy to be both halves, the watcher and the watched. ‘Can they be brought together?’ This is a practical question. We must get down to it. ‘I despise intelligence’ really means: ‘I cannot bear my doubts.’

— Albert Camus

Painting by Tigran Tsitoghdzyan (“White Mirror, Oil on Canvas”) via Elinka Quote Source: Larmoyante

An invincible summer


In the midst of winter,
I found there was,
within me,
an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy.
For it says
that no matter how hard
the world pushes against me,
within me,
there’s something stronger—
something better,
pushing right back.

— Albert Camus, from The Stranger

Credits: Photograph – thank you Carol @ Radiating Blossom. Poem: A Poet Reflects

We should like to stretch out


Beauty is unbearable,
offering us for a minute
the glimpse of an eternity
that we should like to stretch out
over the whole of time.

~ Albert Camus

Credits: Photograph – Alex Buts. Poem – Thank you Rob @ The Hammock Papers

I walk slowly forward, weighed down by so much ardent beauty

Veneto Countryside Vincenza Italy

“This inner silence which accompanies me is born of the slow stride which leads from one day to another. What more can I long for than this room opening out on to the plain, with its antique furniture and its crocheted lace? I have the whole sky on my face, and feel that I could follow these slow, turning days forever, spinning motionlessly with them. I breathe in the only happiness I can attain—an attentive and friendly awareness.

I spend the whole day walking about: from the hill, I go down to Vicenza or else farther into the country. Every person I meet, every scent on this street, is a pretext for my measureless love … all are props for the person who can no longer be alone. But the tender and bitter piping of the grasshoppers, the perfume of water and stars that you meet in the September nights, the scented paths among the lentisks and rose bushes, all are signs of love for the person forced to be alone. Thus the days pass. After the dazzling glare of the sun-filled days, evening comes, in the splendid décor offered by the gold of the setting sun and the black of the cypress-trees. I then walk along the road, toward the crickets that can be heard far away. As I advance, they begin one by one to sing more softly, and then fall silent. I walk slowly forward, weighed down by so much ardent beauty.”

—Albert Camus, from “Lyrical and Critical,” Betwixt and Between (1937)

Credits: Quote Source: A Poet Reflects.  Image of Vicenza Italy Countryside:

%d bloggers like this: