Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a

The words of Albert Camus—“Truth, like light, blinds. Falsehood, on the contrary, is a beautiful twilight that enhances every object”—resound with paradox and poetry, as is fitting for a philosopher who wrestled with the absurdity of existence. In these words, Camus reveals the sharp and painful nature of truth: it is pure and uncompromising, like sunlight striking the eyes. To behold it is to be dazzled, sometimes even wounded, for it strips away illusions and forces the soul to see reality as it is. Falsehood, however, cloaks the world in soft twilight, flattering and enhancing, making even the harsh and ugly appear gentle and pleasing. Thus Camus warns us that though falsehood may feel comforting, it is but a twilight veil, while truth, though painful, is the blazing light of reality.

The ancients also spoke of this tension. Plato, in his allegory of the cave, described the prisoner who emerges into the light of the sun. At first, he is blinded, unable to bear the brightness of truth, preferring the shadows that once seemed beautiful. This is the same wisdom Camus conveys: that light blinds, because our eyes are accustomed to illusions. Yet only by enduring the pain of that brightness can one see life as it is. Falsehood, like the twilight of the cave, enhances every shadow, making it seem real, but leaving the soul in darkness.

History gives us many witnesses of this struggle. Consider the story of Galileo Galilei, who gazed into the heavens and saw what others refused to see: the Earth was not the center of the universe. His truth was a blinding light, one that stripped away centuries of comfortable belief. The authorities rejected it, preferring the twilight of falsehood that made their world feel stable and familiar. Yet Galileo endured, and in time his dazzling truth became the foundation of modern science. His story shows us how truth blinds at first, yet ultimately liberates.

We may also look to the life of Martin Luther King, Jr. His words—declaring the truth of human equality—were not always received with joy. For many, they were blinding, exposing injustices that people preferred not to see. Falsehood had painted segregation with the twilight hues of tradition and order, making it seem natural, even beautiful to those who benefited from it. But King’s truth was light—dazzling, painful, impossible to ignore. Though resisted, it burned away illusions and gave birth to a new vision of justice.

Camus, however, does not call us to despair in the blinding light. Rather, he reminds us of the cost of truth, and the allure of lies. We must understand why people often choose falsehood—not because they are fools, but because falsehood comforts, soothes, and enhances. It flatters pride and hides ugliness. But twilight cannot last; it fades into night. Only truth endures, as the sun endures beyond every dawn. To live in truth, we must accept that it will sometimes hurt, and that it may strip away the illusions that gave us comfort.

The lesson for us is this: do not be seduced by the twilight of falsehood. Though it makes life easier to bear, it leads only to deeper darkness. Choose instead the light of truth, even when it blinds, even when it burns. Train your eyes slowly to endure it, for once you learn to see in its brilliance, the world will be revealed in its true form—harsh at times, but real, and therefore worthy of love and courage.

Therefore, O seeker, remember Camus’ wisdom: truth blinds, falsehood flatters. But truth, though dazzling, is the path to freedom, while falsehood, though beautiful, is the path to slavery. Live with courage, accept the pain of clarity, and you will walk as one who sees, not as one who dreams. For better to be blinded by the sun than comforted by shadows, better to endure the brilliance of reality than to live forever in the twilight of deceit.