No one can keep his griefs in their prime; they use themselves up.

Cioran suggests that even the most intense sorrow is subject to a kind of inner entropy: grief cannot be preserved at peak intensity indefinitely. However much one might cling to pain—out of fidelity to a loss, identity, or habit—time and repetition blunt it, not necessarily by healing but by exhaustion. The line carries Cioran’s characteristic skepticism toward grand emotional postures: suffering, like any passion, has a lifespan and consumes its own fuel. It also implies an unsettling consolation: grief will diminish, but not because the world becomes meaningful—only because the psyche cannot sustain “prime” anguish forever.