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It is wonderful how much time good people spend fighting the devil. If they would only expend the same amount of energy loving their fellow men, the devil would die in his own tracks of ennui.
If the child has not an object that it can occupy itself with, it feels ennui; for it does not yet know how to occupy itself with itself.
Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.
Life creates itself in delirium and is undone in ennui.
To love to read is to exchange hours of ennui for hours of delight.