I closed my eyes after finishing this book and thought about the futility of life and surprisingly, a chain, a perceptible pattern of thoughts started to come out and torturing me, at the very instant.
After pondering about what Cioran says for some time, I resigned to (though with some melancholy) the thought of seeing the world as it really is.
This is a sad book, I am not denying it..
In a sense, it’s a really dangerous book and read it at your own risk.