Utan att peta i de engelska översättningarna (gjorda av Ilinca Zarifopol-Johnston som också skrev den fina ofullbordade biografin över honom, den som maken utgav med hennes egen dagbok över möten och samtal med Cioran, Searching for Cioran), vill jag visa er några små utdrag:
Only the brothel or an angel´s tear can free us temporarily from the terror of death.
Voluntary hunger is a road to heaven; hunger from poverty, a crime of the earth.
I know no other music than that of tears. Born out of the loss of paradise, music gives birth to the symbols of this loss: tears.
Becoming is nothing more than a cosmic sigh. We are the wounds of nature, and God is doubting Thomas.
Philosophers are cold-blooded. There is no heat except near God. That´s why the Siberia of our souls clamors for saints.
I wonder who has wept our stars?
Angels speak only to musical ears.
It is harder to forget saintly women, for they seduce us with their divine and melancholy beauty.
The last stop towards nihilism is the disappearance into divinity.
Without their madness, saints would merely be Christians.
Every revolt is directed against Creation.