Osamu Dazai Quotes

As long as I can make them laugh, it doesn’t matter how, I’ll be alright. If I succeed in that, the human beings probably won’t mind it too much if I remain outside their lives. The one thing I must avoid is becoming offensive in their eyes: I shall be nothing, the wind, the sky.

Whenever I was asked what I wanted my first impulse was to answer “Nothing.” The thought went through my mind that it didn’t make any difference, that nothing was going to make me happy.

Victims. Victims of a transitional period of morality. That is what we both certainly are.

Addiction is perhaps a sickness of the spirit.

Virtue and vice are concepts invented by human beings, words for a morality which human beings arbitrarily devised.

Now I have neither happiness nor unhappiness.Everything passes.That is the one and only thing that I have thought resembled a truth in the society of human beings where I have dwelled up to now as in a burning hell.Everything passes.

I like roses best. But they bloom in all four seasons. I wonder if people who like roses best have to die four times over again.

Last year nothing happened The year before nothing happened And the year before that nothing happened.

What did he mean by “society”? The plural of human beings?

Labeled a delinquent. That’s the only kind of label I want to be crucified under.

But happiness is being able to hope, however faintly, for happiness. So, at least, we must believe if we are to live in the world of today.

I am convinced that human life is filled with many pure, happy, serene examples of insincerity, truly splendid of their kind-of people deceiving one another without (strangely enough) any wounds being inflicted, of people who seem unaware even that they are deceiving one another.

The weak fear happiness itself. They can harm themselves on cotton wool. Sometimes they are wounded even by happiness

I have no desire for others to take it on themselves to analyze my thoughts. I am without thoughts. I have never, not even once, acted on the basis of any doctrine or philosophy.I am convinced that those people whom the world considers good and respects are all liars and fakes. I do not trust the world.

The real things are apt to be deviant.

What uneasiness lies in being loved.

A true artist is an ugly man.

I want to spend my time with people who don’t look to be respected. But such good people won’t want to spend their time with me.

Now even if I die, no one will be so grieved as to do himself bodily harm.

The weak fear happiness itself.

For someone like myself in whom the ability to trust others is so cracked and broken that I am wretchedly timid and am forever trying to read the expression on people’s faces.