Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked?… - Søren Kierkegaard
" "Do you not know that there comes a midnight hour when every one has to throw off his mask? Do you believe that life will always let itself be mocked? Do you think you can slip away a little before midnight in order to avoid this? Or are you not terrified by it? I have seen men in real life who so long deceived others that at last their true nature could not reveal itself;... In every man there is something which to a certain degree prevents him from becoming perfectly transparent to himself; and this may be the case in so high a degree, he may be so inexplicably woven into relationships of life which extend far beyond himself that he almost cannot reveal himself. But he who cannot reveal himself cannot love, and he who cannot love is the most unhappy man of all.
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About Søren Kierkegaard
Søren Aabye Kierkegaard (5 May 1813 – 11 November 1855) was a Danish Christian philosopher and theologian, considered to be a founder of Existentialist thought and Absurdist traditions. He wrote critical texts on organized religion, Christendom, morality, ethics, psychology and philosophy of religion, displaying a fondness for metaphor, irony and parables.
Biography information from Wikiquote
Also Known As
Pen Names:
Victor Eremita
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A
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Judge William
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Johannes de silentio
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Constantine Constantius
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Young Man
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Vigilius Haufniensis
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Nicolaus Notabene
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Hilarius Bookbinder
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Johannes Climacus
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Inter et Inter
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H.H.
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Anti-Climacus
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B
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Johannes de Silentio
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Constantin Constantius
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P. CH. Kierkegaard
Native Name:
Søren Aabye Kierkegaard
Alternative Names:
Kierkegaard
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Climacus
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Sören Aaby Kierkegaard
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Additional quotes by Søren Kierkegaard
I think I have the courage to doubt everything; I think I have the courage to fight everything. But I do not have the courage to know anything, nor to possess, to own anything. Most people complain that the world is so prosaic, that life isn't like a romantic novel where opportunities are always so favourable. What I complain of is that life is not like a novel where there are hard-hearted fathers, and goblins and trolls to fight with, enchanted princesses to free. What are all such enemies taken together compared to the pallid, bloodless, glutinous nocturnal shapes with which I fight and to which I myself give life and being.
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