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IN CHAPTERS TITLE
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0_1969-05-31
05.14_-_The_Sanctity_of_the_Individual
PRIMARY CLASS
author
SIMILAR TITLES
Jean-Paul Sartre
TERMS STARTING WITH
TERMS ANYWHERE
KEYS (10k)
8 Jean-Paul Sartre
NEW FULL DB (2.4M)
1425 Jean Paul Sartre
8 Jean-Paul Sartre
3 Kurt Vonnegut
3 Eula Biss
2 Sue Klebold
2 Mehmet Murat ildan
2 Iris Murdoch
2 Gary Lachman
1:We are our choices. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, #KEYS
2:Every word has consequences. Every silence, too. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, #KEYS
3:If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, #KEYS
4:Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre,#KEYS
5:The painful secret of gods and kings is that men are free... You know it and they do not. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, The Flies, #KEYS
6:I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre,#KEYS
7:It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness,#KEYS
8:Man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet, [he] is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Humanism, #KEYS
*** WISDOM TROVE ***
1:We are our choices. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 2:Hell is other people. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 3:Acting is happy agony. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 4:Nothingness haunts Being. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 5:Words are loaded pistols. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 6:I am myself and I am here. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 7:Life is a useless passion. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 8:Man is condemned to be free ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 9:Existence is an imperfection. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 10:In love, one and one are one. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 11:Man must be invented each day ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 12:Existence is prior to essence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 13:This then is the age of reason. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 14:Commitment is an act, not a word. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 15:Hell is other people at breakfast. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 16:Man is what he wills himself to be. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 17:My pessimism has never been flabby. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 18:We do not judge the people we love. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 19:Because we can imagine, we are free. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 20:Man's existence precedes his essence ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 21:Existence precedes and rules essence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 22:Introspection is always retrospection ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 23:The past is the luxury of proprietors. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 24:What is not possible is not to choose. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 25:An individual chooses and makes himself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 26:To choose not to choose is still to act. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 27:To eat is to appropriate by destruction. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 28:I do not think therefore I am a moustache ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 29:Life begins on the other side of despair. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 30:your judgement judges you and defines you ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 31:I don't know. Everything. Living. Smoking. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 32:God is absence. God is the solitude of man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 33:I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 34:Is there really nothing, nothing left of me? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 35:You are - your life, and nothing else. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 36:I considered calmly that I was born to write. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 37:Better a good journalist than a poor assassin. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 38:Death is a continuation of my life without me. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 39:I hate victims who respect their executioners. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 40:Photographs are not ideas. They give us ideas. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 41:We must act out passion before we can feel it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 42:When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 43:Heroism is not to be won at the point of a pen. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 44:I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 45:It is always more valuable to report the truth. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 46:Man is the being whose project it is to be God. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 47:You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 48:Every word has consequences. Every silence, too. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 49:I know only one Church: it is the society of men. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 50:I said to myself, & 51:It is disgusting - Why must we have bodies? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 52:Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 53:One does not adopt a new idea, one slips into it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 54:We make our own hell out of the people around us. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 55:A lost battle is a battle one thinks one has lost. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 56:Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 57:It is only in our decisions that we are important. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 58:I confused things with their names: that is belief. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 59:Who can exhaust a man? Who knows a man's resources? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 60:emotion is first of all and in principle an accident ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 61:Everything has been figured out, except how to live. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 62:Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 63:Sometimes the truth is too simple for intellectuals. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 64:The existentialist says at once that man is anguish. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 65:Violence is good for those who have nothing to lose. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 66:Two people can form a community by excluding a third. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 67:I have always been an optimist, perhaps even too much. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 68:Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 69:Words are more treacherous and powerful than we think. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 70:I have changed as everyone changes: within a permanency. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 71:Man is fully responsible for his nature and his choices. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 72:Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 73:There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 74:Yes, I am so free. And what a superb absence is my soul. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 75:Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 76:The more absurd life is, the more insupportable death is. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 77:L'homme est une passion inutile. Man is a useless passion. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 78:Freedom is existence, and in it existence precedes essence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 79:I am a man, Jupiter, and each man must invent his own path. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 80:If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 81:It is better; heavier, crueler. The mouth you wear for hell. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 82:Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 83:Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 84:The plight of modern man is that he is condemmed to be free. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 85:My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I'm going to sleep. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 86:One cannot become a saint when one works sixteen hours a day. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 87:Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 88:I have no need for good souls: an accomplice is what I wanted. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 89:To think new thoughts you have to break the bones in your head ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 90:I distrust the incommunicable; it is the source of all violence ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 91:There is no human nature, since there is no god to conceive it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 92:To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 93:Ah! Do not judge the gods, young man, they have painful secrets. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 94:It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 95:No finite point has meaning without an infinite reference point. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 96:The form [of literature] matters little to me, classical or not. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 97:The universe remains dark. We are animals struck by catastrophe. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 98:All-powerful god, who am I but the fear that I inspire in others? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 99:All that I know about my life, it seems, I have learned in books. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 100:The coward makes himself cowardly, the hero makes himself heroic. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 101:Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 102:I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 103:I am responsible for everything... except my very responsibility. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 104:I should wish [Alain Robbe-Grillet] to realize that Guinea exists. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 105:It is meaningless that we are born, it is meaningless that we die. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 106:To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 107:I believe, I desire, that social and economic ills may be remedied. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 108:I am not recommending "popular" literature which aims at the lowest. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 109:I found the human heart empty and insipid everywhere except in books. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 110:I tell you in truth: all men are Prophets or else God does not exist. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 111:L'homme est condamne a' e" tre libre. Man is condemned to be free. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 112:Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion of being eternal. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 113:Uncalled-for aggression arouses the hatred of the civilian population. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 114:You must be afraid, my son. That is how one becomes an honest citizen. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 115:Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 116:The characteristic of every neurosis is to represent itself as natural. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 117:To be responsible is to be the uncontested author of an event or thing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 118:What is life but an unpleasant interruption to a peaceful nonexistence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 119:When one does nothing, one believes oneself responsible for everything. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 120:Man is always a wizard to man, and the social world is at first magical. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 121:There it is: I am gently slipping into the water's depths, towards fear. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 122:the worst part about being lied to is knowing you werent worth the truth ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 123:Why do you keep maintaining your ideas are right if you can't prove them? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 124:Better to have beasts that let themselves be killed than men who run away. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 125:It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 126:Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 127:In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 128:A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 129:She believed in nothing; only her skepticism kept her from being an atheist. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 130:The best work is not what is most difficult for you; it is what you do best. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 131:What is boredom? It is when there is simultaneously too much and not enough. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 132:Atheism is a cruel long term business, and I have gone through it to the end. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 133:If you seek authenticity for authenticity's sake you are no longer authentic. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 134:In Guinea I could read [Franz] Kafka. I re-discover in him my own discomfort. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 135:I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 136:To believe is to know you believe, and to know you believe is not to believe. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 137:Several hours or several years make no difference once you have lost eternity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 138:The consciousness that says & 139:The poor don't know that their function in life is to exercise our generosity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 140:When rich people fight wars with one another, poor people are the ones to die. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 141:Every human endeavor, however singular it seems, involves the whole human race. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 142:Man exists, turns up, appears on the scene and only afterwards, defines himself ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 143:Originally, poetry creates the myth, while the prose-writer draws its portrait. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 144:When we love animals and children too much, we love them at the expense of men. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 145:All human actions are equivalent... and all are on principle doomed to failure. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 146:How can I, who was not able to retain my own past, hope to save that of another? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 147:I have no religion, but if I were to choose one, it would be that of Shariati's. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 148:Il n'y a de r√©alit√© que dans l'action. (There is no reality except in action.) ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 149:Respectable society believed in God in order to avoid having to speak about him. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 150:Things are entirely what they appear to be and behind them... there is nothing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 151:When she is alone in the rooms I hear her humming to keep herself from thinking. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 152:I admire [Samuel] Beckett, but I am totally against him. He seeks no improvement. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 153:It is the same: a chosen one is a man whom God's finger crushes against the wall. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 154:Once you hear the details of victory, it is hard to distinguish it from a defeat. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 155:There is no book of mine that I reject. That does not mean that I find them good. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 156:Fascism is not defined by the number of its victims, but by the way it kills them. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 157:I can receive nothing more from these tragic solitudes than a little empty purity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 158:If literature isn't everything, it's not worth a single hour of someone's trouble. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 159:Once freedom lights its beacon in man's heart, the gods are powerless against him. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 160:What's done at night belongs to the night. In the daytime you don't talk about it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 161:When one loves animals and children too much, one loves them against human beings. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 162:Ah! How I hate the crimes of the new generation: they are dry and sterile as darnel. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 163:Evil is the product of the ability of humans to make abstract that which is concrete. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 164:it was odd, he thought, that a man could hate himself as though he were someone else. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 165:That's what existence means: draining one's own self dry without the sense of thirst. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 166:As far as men go, it is not what they are that interests me, but what they can become. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 167:I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I am still choosing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 168:So long as one believes in God, one has the right to do the Good in order to be moral. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 169:There is no salvation anywhere. The idea of salvation implies the idea of an absolute. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 170:It is enough that one man hate another for hate to gain, little by little, all mankind. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 171:That is exactly the writer's problem. What does literature stand for in a hungry world? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 172:Besides one should not believe that the people only want reading that is easy to absorb. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 173:Intellectuals cannot be good revolutionaries; they are just good enough to be assassins. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 174:Life gave me everything I asked. If all I asked was not a great deal, that's my problem! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 175:Politics is a science. You can demonstrate that you are right and that others are wrong. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 176:I am not virtuous. Our sons will be if we shed enough blood to give them the right to be. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 177:Once liberty has exploded in the soul of a man, the gods can do nothing against that man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 178:One should commit no stupidity twice, the variety of choice is, in the end, large enough. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 179:Thus it amounts to the same thing whether one gets drunk alone or is a leader of nations. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 180:A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 181:I think [Alain Robbe-Grillet] a good writer, but he speaks to the comfortable bourgeoisie. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 182:We do not know what we want and yet we are responsible for what we are - that is the fact. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 183:He is always becoming, and if it were not for the contingency of death, he would never end. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 184:I receive letters from workers, from secretaries. . . . They are the most interesting ones. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 185:Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 186:That God does not exist, I cannot deny, That my whole being cries out for God I cannot forget. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 187:Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 188:For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 189:What never vary are the necessities of being in the world, of having to labor and to die there. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 190:Consciousness is a being the nature of which is to be conscious of the nothingness of its being. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 191:Fear? If I have gained anything by damning myself, it is that I no longer have anything to fear. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 192:Our responsibility is much greater than we might have supposed, because it involves all mankind. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 193:When the rich [and politically powerful] make war, it's the poor [and politically weak] who die. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 194:Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 195:I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have dragged through I don't know how many consciences. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 196:The more one is absorbed in fighting evil, the less one is tempted to place the good in question. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 197:This is the basis for the joy of love when there is joy; we feel that our existence is justified. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 198:What do I care about Jupiter? Justice is a human issue, and I do not need a god to teach it to me. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 199:I'd come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 200:If you are not already dead, forgive. Rancor is heavy, it is worldly; leave it on earth: die light. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 201:The painful secret of gods and kings is that men are free, Aegistheus. You know it and they do not. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 202:The world would get along very well without literature. It would get along even better without man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 203:As if there could be true stories: things happen in one way, and we retell them in the opposite way. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 204:The revolution you dream of is not ours. You don't want to change the world; you want to blow it up. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 205:This desire [to write] is rather strange all the same and is not without a certain "cracked" quality. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 206:Acting is a question of absorbing other people's personalities and adding some of your own experience. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 207:Everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 208:I am alone in this white, garden-rimmed street. Alone and free. But this freedom is rather like death. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 209:I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 210:I entered the Communist Party because its cause was just and I will leave it when it ceases to be just. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 211:I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 212:Night is falling: at dusk, you must have good eyesight to be able to tell the Good Lord from the Devil. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 213:Outside nature, against nature, without excuse, beyond remedy, except what remedy I find within myself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 214:Time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 215:We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 216:A good hanging now and then - that entertains folk in the provinces and robs death of its glamour. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 217:I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 218:What I see is teeming cohesion, contained dispersal... For him, to sculpt is to take the fat off space. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 219:I have seen children dying of hunger. Over against a dying child La Nausee cannot act as a counterweight. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 220:I will not be modest. Humble, as much as you like, but not modest. Modesty is the virtue of the lukewarm. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 221:Un homme n'est rien d'autre qu'une se rie d'entreprises. A man is no other than a series of undertakings. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 222:When I can't see myself in the mirror, I can't even feel myself, and I begin to wonder if I exist at all. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 223:A man who is free is like a mangy sheep in a herd. He will contaminate my entire kingdom and ruin my work. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 224:I respect orders but I respect myself too and I do not obey foolish rules made especially to humiliate me. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 225:Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 226:My thought is me: that is why I cannot stop thinking. I exist because I think I cannot keep from thinking. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 227:One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others. One could never get directly at oneself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 228:If you begin by saying, & 229:The real nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, all that was not present did not exist. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 230:There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 231:Do you think I can read [Alain] Robbe-Grillet in an underdeveloped country? He does not feel himself maimed. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 232:Ideas come in pairs and they contradict one another; their opposition is the principal engine of reflection. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 233:I say a murder is abstract. You pull the trigger and after that you do not understand anything that happens. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 234:The appearance of the other in the world corresponds therefore to a congealed sliding of the whole universe. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 235:A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness... and suddenly the ‚úI‚ù pales, pales, and fades out. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 236:Perhaps its inevitable, perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all and impersonating what one is. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 237:What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 238:Don't you feel the same way? When I cannot see myself, even though I touch myself, I wonder if I really exist. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 239:You see, the contemporary writer must write through his intimations of unease, while trying to elucidate them. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 240:Philosophy which does not help to illuminate the process of the liberation of the oppressed should be rejected. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 241:Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 242:[Contemporary writer] could be a kind of [Samuel] Beckett who would not be felt to be totally committed to despair. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 243:I was escaping from Nature and at last becoming myself, that Other whom I was aspiring to be in the eyes of others. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 244:I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It always made me want to do just the opposite. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 245:This [service to oppressed] is the writer's task, and, if he fulfills it as he should, he acquires no merit from it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 246:There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 247:The viable jewels of life remain untouched when man forgets his vocation of searching for the truth of his existence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 248:We cannot withdraw our cards from the game. Were we as silent and mute as stones, our very passivity would be an act. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 249:In Les Mots I explain the origin of my madness, of my neurosis. This analysis may help the young who dream of writing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 250:Absurd, irreducible; nothing& 251:For the time being I have seen enough of living things, of dogs, of men, of all flabby masses which move spontaneously. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 252:What I lacked [in La Nausee] was a sense of reality. I have changed since. I have slowly learned to experience reality. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 253:As long as the writer cannot write for the two billion men who are hungry, he will be oppressed by a feeling of malaise. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 254:At that time [1954], as a result of political events, I was deeply preoccupied by my relations with the Communist Party. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 255:I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 256:Take [St√©phane] Mallarme. I hold him to be the greatest of French poets, and I have taken some time to understand him ! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 257:A madman's ravings are absurd in relation to the situation in which he finds himself, but not in relation to his madness. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 258:I do not understand! I understand nothing! I cannot understand nor do I want to understand! I want to believe! To Believe! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 259:Men equally honest, equally devoted to their fatherland, are momentarily separated by different conceptions of their duty. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 260:For common minds have an ugly ability to perceive in the deepest and richest saying nothing but their own everyday opinion. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 261:Handing over a bank note is enough to make a bicycle belong to me, but my entire life is needed to realize this possession. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 262:A kiss without a moustache, they said then, is like an egg without salt; I will add to it: and it is like Good without Evil. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 263:Be quiet! Anyone can spit in my face, and call me a criminal and a prostitute. But no one has the right to judge my remorse. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 264:Criminals together. We're in hell, my little friend, and there's never any mistake there. People are not damned for nothing. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 265:Man is abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no aim but what he sets himself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 266:Never have I thought that I was the happy possessor of a "talent;" my sole concern has been to save myself by work and faith. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 267:I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 268:Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of, and the of it is nothing other than the sense you choose. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 269:Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 270:A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution, even if it takes place in the most honorable form. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 271:It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 272:The For-itself, in fact, is nothing but the pure nihilation of the In-itself; it is like a hole of being at the heart of Being. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 273:We do not wish to say only that a man is responsible for his own individuality, but that he is responsible for that of all men. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 274:I am finishing a biography of [Gustave] Flaubert. Because he is the opposite of what I am. One needs to rub up against argument. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 275:I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 276:From the period when I wrote La Nausea I wanted to create a morality. My evolution consists in my no longer dreaming of doing so. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 277:I do not believe in God; his existence has been disproved by Science. But in the concentration camp, I learned to believe in men. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 278:It disturbs me no more to find men base, unjust, or selfish than to see apes mischievous, wolves savage, or the vulture ravenous. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 279:If I did not publish this autobiography [Les Mots] sooner and in its most radical form, it is because I considered it exaggerated. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 280:Imagination is not an empirical or superadded power of consciousness, it is the whole of consciousness as it realizes its freedom. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 281:One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 282:One of the chief motives of artistic creation is certainly the need of feeling that we are essential in relationship to the world. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 283:The recent experiences of pocketbooks prove this. I have changed my public since my works have been published in a smaller format. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 284:Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom-ah the soul-destroying boredom-of long days of mild content. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 285:The [Communist] Party has one objective: the creation of a socialist economy; and one means: the utilization of the class struggle. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 286:I have always been happy. Even if I had been more honest with regard to myself at that moment I should still have written La Nausee. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 287:I have such a desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 288:[St√©phane Mallarm√©] theory of the hermetic is a mistake, but he can be only difficult to read when he has difficult things to say. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 289:To keep hope alive one must, in spite of all mistakes, horrors, and crimes, recognize the obvious superiority of the socialist camp. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 290:With a little luck that epoch may arrive. I am on the side of those who think that things will go better when the world has changed. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 291:If I became a philosopher, if I have so keenly sought this fame for which I'm still waiting, it's all been to seduce women basically. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 292:I needed to justify my existence, and I had made an absolute of literature. It took me thirty years to get rid of this state of mind. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 293:It is no longer possible to escape men. Farewell to the monsters, farewell to the saints. Farewell to pride. All that is left is men. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 294:The lad who dreams of being a boxing champion or an admiral chooses reality. If the writer chooses the imaginary, he confuses the two. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 295:The status of & 296:A writer who takes political, social or literary positions must act only with the means that are his. These means are the written words. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 297:Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. [It is a matter of choice, not chance.] Such is the first principle of existentialism. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 298:I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in . . . but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 299:Neither sex, without some fertilization of the complimentary characters of the other, is capable of the highest reaches of human endeavor. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 300:All I can do is make the best of what I am, become accustomed to it, evaluate the possibilities, and take advantage of them the best I can. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 301:A human being who wakened in the morning with a queesy stomach, with fifteen hours to kill before next bedtime, had not much use for freedom. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 302:You take souls for vegetables... . The gardener can decide what will become of his carrots but no one can choose the good of others for them. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 303:Before you come alive, life is nothing; it & 304:I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 305:You see, I'm fond of teasing, it's a second nature with me‚îand I'm used to teasing myself. Plaguing myself, if you prefer; I don't tease nicely. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 306:It's just what people do when they're getting old, when they're sick of themselves and their life; they think of money and take care of themselves. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 307:Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 308:So much torture, bloodshed, deceit. You cannot make your young people practice torture twenty-four hours a day and not expect to pay a price for it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 309:There are two ways of destroying a people. Either condemn them en bloc or force them to repudiate the leaders they adopted. The second is the worse. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 310:To love is never just to love since it is also to will to love, and ... to love in spite of oneself, to allow oneself to be overcome by one's love. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 311:I discovered suddenly that alienation, exploitation of man by man, under-nourishment, relegated to the background metaphysical evil which is a luxury. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 312:If I relegate impossible Salvation to the prop room, what remains? A whole man, composed of all men and as good as all of them and no better than any. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 313:I suppose it is out of laziness that the world is the same day after day. Today it seemed to want to change. And then anything, anything could happen. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 314:As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 315:I am no longer sure of anything. If I satiate my desires, I sin but I deliver myself from them; if I refuse to satisfy them, they infect the whole soul. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 316:That of War and Peace or of Almagestes. All are satisfactory. The only criterion of a work is its validity: that it should grip and that it should last. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 317:I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 318:I consider Les Nourritures Terrestres as a frightening book: "Look for God in no other place than everywhere." Go and tell that to a workman, an engineer! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 319:Some men are born committed to action: they do not have a choice, they have been thrown on a path, at the end of that path, an act awaits them, their act. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 320:In a word, man must create his own essence: it is in throwing himself into the world, suffering there, struggling there, that he gradually defines himself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 321:If a Jew is fascinated by Christians it is not because of their virtues, which he values little, but because they represent anonymity, humanity without race. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 322:One always dies too soon or too late. And yet, life is there, finished: the line is drawn, and it must all be added up. You are nothing other than your life. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 323:I've dropped out of their hearts like a little sparrow fallen from its nest. So gather me up, dear, fold me to your heart ‚ì and you'll see how nice I can be. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 324:People who live in society have learnt how to see themselves, in mirrors, as they appear to their friends. I have no friends: is that why my flesh is so naked? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 325:If you want to deserve Hell, you need only stay in bed. The world is iniquity; if you accept it, you are an accomplice, if you change it you are an executioner. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 326:Once we know and are aware, we are responsible for our action and our inaction. We can do something about it or ignore it. Either way, we are still responsible. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 327:A Soviet citizen, an official writer, once said to me: "The day when Communism (that is, well-being for everyone) reigns, man's tragedy will begin: his finitude." ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 328:I do not give a damn about the dead. They died for the [Communist] Party and the Party can decide what it wants. I practice a live man's politics, for the living. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 329:It is not a matter of indifference whether we like oysters or clams, snails or shrimp, if only we know how to unravel the existential significance of these foods. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 330:The individual's duty is to do what he wants to do, to think whatever he likes, to be accountable to no one but himself, to challenge every idea and every person. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 331:There are two types of poor people, those who are poor together and those who are poor alone. The first are the true poor, the others are rich people out of luck. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 332:For forty years I was conscripted by the absolute, the neurosis. The absolute is gone. There remain countless tasks among which literature is in no way privileged. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 333:Total war is no longer war waged by all members of one national community against all those of another. It is total... because it may well involve the whole world. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 334:Everything is gratuitous, this garden, this city and myself. When you suddenly realize it, it makes you feel sick and everything begins to drift . . . that's nausea. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 335:In a country lacking leaders, in Africa, for instance, how could a native educated in Europe refuse to become a professor, even at the price of his literary vocation? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 336:There is a universe behind and before him. And the day is approaching when closing the last book on the last shelf on the far left; he will say to himself, "now what? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 337:Il n'y a pas d'autre univers qu'un univers humain, l'univers de la subjectivite There is no other universe except the human universe, the universe of human subjectivity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 338:What do we mean by saying that existence precedes essence? We mean that man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world-and defines himself afterward. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 339:I had realized in the meantime that action too has its difficulties, and that one can also be led to it by neurosis. We are not saved by politics any more than by literature. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 340:Remember, Orestes: you were part of my herd, you grazed in the fields along with my sheep. Your liberty is nothing but a mange eating away at you, it is nothing but an exile. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 341:So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: Hell is other people. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 342:She smiled and said with an ecstatic air: "It shines like a little diamond", "What does?" "This moment. It is round, it hangs in empty space like a little diamond; I am eternal. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 343:Everything in my past, in my training, everything that has been most essential in my activity up to now has made me above all a man who writes, and it is too late for that to change. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 344:Man is nothing else but what he purposes, he exists only in so far as he realizes himself, he is therefore nothing else but the sum of his actions, nothing else but what his life is. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 345:To whomever gives a kiss or a blow Render a kiss or blow But to whomever gives when you are unable to return Offer all the hatred in your heart For you were slaves and he enslaves you ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 346:Words There is no good father, that's the rule. Don't lay the blame on men but on the bond of paternity, which is rotten. To beget children, nothing better; to have them, what iniquity! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 347:I had dreamed my life for nearly fifty years (I am about to be fifty-nine). But, you see, there are two tones in Les Mats: the echo of this condemnation and a mitigation of that severity. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 348:Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 349:What I regretted in La Nausee was not to have put myself completely into the thing. I remained outside my hero's disease, protected by my neurosis which, through writing, gave me happiness. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 350:The aim of language... is to communicate... to impart to others the results one has obtained... As I talk, I reveal the situation... I reveal it to myself and to others in order to change it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 351:Listen to me: a family man is never a real family man. An assassin is never entirely assassin. They play a role, you understand. While a dead man, he is really dead. To be or not to be, right? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 352:The writer is committed when he plunges to the very depths of himself with the intent to disclose, not his individuality, but his person in the complex society that conditions and supports him. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 353:I committed the first crime by creating men as mortals. After that, what more could you do, you the murderers? Come on; they already had death in them: at most you simply hastened things a little. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 354:In any case, if you ever leave me with a handsome man, do not tell me that you trust me because, let me warn you: that is not what will prevent me from deceiving you, if I want to. On the contrary. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 355:It answers the question that was tormenting you: my love, you are not & 356:I am. I am, I exist, I think, therefore I am; I am because I think, why do I think? I don't want to think any more, I am because I think that I don't want to be, I think that I . . . because . . . ugh! ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 357:Lord, you have cursed Cain and Cain's children: thy will be done. You have allowed men's hearts to be corrupted, that their intentions be rotten, that their actions putrefy and stink: thy will be done. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 358:To choose this or that is to affirm at the same time the value of what we choose, because we can never choose evil. We always choose the good, and nothing can be good for us without being good for all. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 359:I have nothing but contempt for you idiotic chosen ones who have the heart to rejoice when there are the damned in Hell and the poor on earth; as for me, I am on the side of men and I will not leave it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 360:Every age has its own poetry; in every age the circumstances of history choose a nation, a race, a class to take up the torch by creating situations that can be expressed or transcended only through poetry. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 361:Naturally, in the course of my life I have made lots of mistakes, large and small, for one reason or another, but at the heart of it all, every time I made a mistake it was because I was not radical enough. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 362:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that's all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 363:The public, too, has to make an effort in order to understand the writer who, though he renounce complacent obscurity, cannot always express his new-hidden thoughts lucidly and according to accepted models. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 364:A man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 365:Existence is not something which lets itself be thought of form a distance; it must invade you suddenly, master you, weigh heavily on your heart like a great motionless beast - or else there is nothing at all. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 366:Abjection is a methodological conversion, like Cartesian doubt and Husserlian epoche: it establishes the world as a closed system which consciousness regards from without, in the manner of divine understanding. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 367:At times discreetly, at times disgustingly, I yielded to the most fatal temptation whenever I could no longer bear it: as a result of impatience, Orpheus lost Eurydice; as a result of impatience, I lost myself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 368:Ha! to forget. How childish! I feel you in my bones. Your silence screams in my ears. You may nail your mouth shut, you may cut out your tongue, can you keep yourself from existing? Will you stop your thoughts. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 369:Perception is naturally surpassed toward action; better yet, it can be revealed only in and through projects of action. The world is revealed as an "always future hollow", for we are always future to ourselves. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 370:If you die, I will lie down beside you and I will stay there until the end, without eating or drinking, you will rot in my arms and I will love you as carcass: for you love nothing if you do not love everything. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 371:Torture is senseless violence, born in fear... torture costs human lives but does not save them. We would almost be too lucky if these crimes were the work of savages: the truth is that torture makes torturers. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 372:In order to make myself recognized by the Other, I must risk my own life. To risk one's life, in fact, is to reveal oneself as not-bound to the objective form or to any determined existence‚ as not-bound to life. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 373:I enjoy feeling fastidious and aloof. I enjoy saying no, always no, and I should be afraid of any attempt to construct a finally habitable world, because I should merely have to say - Yes; and act like other people. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 374:I felt myself in a solitude so frightful that I contemplated suicide. What held me back was the idea that no one, absolutely no one, would be moved by my death, that I would be even more alone in death than in life. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 375:Therefore, in the nature of this will for freedom, which freedom itself implies, I may pass judgement on those who seek to hide from themselves the complete arbitrariness and the complete freedom of their existence. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 376:Generosity is nothing else than a craze to possess. All which I abandon, all which I give, I enjoy in a higher manner through the fact that I give it away. To give is to enjoy possessively the object which one gives. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 377:What do you want to do with the [Communist] Party? A racing stable? What good is it to sharpen a knife every day if you never useit for slicing? A party is never more than a means. There is only one objective: power. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 378:What I ask of [the writer] is not to ignore the reality and the fundamental problems that exist. The world's hunger, the atomic threat, the alienation of man, I am astonished that they do not color all our literature. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 379:With despair, true optimism begins: the optimism of the man who expects nothing, who knows he has no rights and nothing coming to him, who rejoices in counting on himself alone and in acting alone for the good of all. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 380:For the artist, the color, the bouquet, the tinkling of the spoon on the saucer, are things in the highest degree. He stops at the quality of the sound or the form. He returns to it constantly and is enchanted with it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 381:I maintain that inversion is the effect of neither a prenatal choice nor an endocrinal malformation nor even the passive and determined result of complexes. It is an outlet that a child discovers when he is suffocating. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 382:It's quite an undertaking to start loving somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: if you think about it you don't do it. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 383:It's the well-behaved children that make the most formidable revolutionaries. They don't say a word, they don't hide under the table, they eat only one piece of chocolate at a time. But later on, they make society pay dearly. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 384:We will not go to Heaven,Goetz, and even if we both entered it, we would not have eyes to see each other, nor hands to touch each other. Up there, God gets all the attention... . We can only love on this earth and against God. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 385:Man is always separated from what he is by all the breadth of the being which he is not. He makes himself known to himself from the other side of the world and he looks from the horizon toward himself to recover his inner being. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 386:Your scare me rather. My reflection in the glass never did that; of course, I knew it so well. Like something I had tamed... I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 387:Either the USSR was not the country of socialism, in which case socialism didn't exist anywhere and doubtless, wasn't possible: or else, socialism was that, this abominable monster, this police state, the power of beasts of prey. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 388:I do not feel that I am the product of chance, a speck of dust in the universe, but someone who was expected, prepared, prefigured. In short, a being whom only a Creator could put here; and this idea of a creating hand refers to God. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 389:Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love‚îor to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 390:I clung to nothing, in a way I was calm. But it was a horrible calm‚îbecause of my body; my body, I saw with its eyes, I heard with its ears, but it was no longer me; it sweated and trembled by itself and I didn't recognize it any more. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 391:I was not the one to invent lies: they were created in a society divided by class and each of us inherited lies when we were born. It is not by refusing to lie that we will abolish lies: it is by eradicating class by any means necessary. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 392:I am alone in the midst of these happy, reasonable voices. All these creatures spend their time explaining, realizing happily that they agree with each other. In Heaven's name, why is it so important to think the same things all together. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 393:Let it crumble! Let the rocks revile me and flowers wilt at my coming. Your whole universe is not enough to prove me wrong. You are the king of gods, king of stones and stars, king of the waves of the sea. But you are not the king of man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 394:When my relations with the Communist Party gave me the necessary perspective I decided to write my autobiography. I wanted to show how a man can pass from literature held sacred to action which nevertheless remains that of an intellectual. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 395:God is the solitude of men. There was only me: I alone decided to commit Evil; alone, I invented Good. I am the one who cheated, I am the one who performed miracles, I am the one accusing myself today, I alone can absolve myself; me, the man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 396:But I must finally realize that I am subject to these sudden transformations. The thing is that I rarely think; a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 397:All the same, they [books] do serve some purpose. Culture doesn't save anything or anyone, it doesn't justify. But it's a product of man: he projects himself into it, he recognizes himself in it; that critical mirror alone offers him his image. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 398:Thrown into the atmosphere of action [in 1954], I suddenly understood the kind of neurosis that dominated all my previous work. I had not been able to recognize it before: I was inside. Simone de Beauvoir had guessed these reasons before I did. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 399:I wanted pure love: foolishness; to love one another is to hate a common enemy: I will thus espouse your hatred. I wanted Good: nonsense; on this earth and in these times, Good and Bad are inseparable: I accept to be evil in order to become good. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 400:In the state I was in, if someone had come and told me I could go home quietly, that they would leave me my life whole, it would have left me cold: several hours or several years of waiting is all the same when you have lost the illusion of being eternal. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 401:Objects should not touch because they are not alive. You use them, put them back in place, you live among them: they are useful, nothing more. But they touch me, it is unbearable. I am afraid of being in contact with them as though they were living beasts. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 402:He who asks a question is a fool for a minute; he who does not remains a fool forever. When you realize that by changing your perspective, big things can be seen as little things, it becomes much harder to worry about anything. Commitment is an act, not a word. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 403:So it comes to this; one doesn't need rest. Why bother about sleep if one isn't sleepy? That stands to reason, doesn't it? Wait a minute, there's a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? ‚¶Ah, I see; it's life without a break. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 404:What then did you expect when you unbound the gag that muted those black mouths? That they would chant your praises? Did you think that when those heads that our fathers had forcibly bowed down to the ground were raised again, you would find adoration in their eyes? ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 405:Aegistheus, the kings have another secret... . Once liberty has exploded in the soul of a man, the Gods can do nothing against that man. It is a matter for men to handle amongst themselves, and it is up to other men and to them alone to let him flee or to destroy him. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 406:I wrote in Les Mots that "I have often thought against myself." That sentence has not been understood either. Critics have seen in it a confession of masochism. But that is how one should think: revolting against everything "inculcated" that one may have within oneself. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 407:My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think‚¶ and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 408:I will take it all: tongs, molten lead, prongs, garrotes, all that burns, all that tears, I want to truly suffer. Better one hundred bites, better the whip, vitriol, than this suffering in the head, this ghost of suffering which grazes and caresses and never hurts enough. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 409:On my way to the office in the morning, there are, in front of me, behind me, other men going to their jobs. I see them; if I dared, I would smile at them. I think to myself that I am a socialist, that they are the purpose of my life, of my efforts and that they do not know it yet. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 410:Like morality, literature needs to be universal. So that the writer must put himself on the side of the majority, of the two billion starving, if he wishes to be able to speak to all and be read by all. Failing that, he is at the service of a privileged class and, like it, an exploiter. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 411:There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. And then, next day, you didn't know what to make of it,you couldn't interpret the horror you had glimpsed the day before. Yes, you know what evil costs. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 412:First all men must be able to become men by the improvement of their conditions of existence, so that a universal morality can be created. If I begin by saying to them: "Thou shalt not lie," there is no longer any possibility of political action. What matters first is the liberation of man. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 413:There are two kinds of existentialist; first, those who are Christian... and on the other hand the atheistic existentialists, among whom... I class myself. What they have in common is that they think that existence precedes essence, or, if you prefer, that subjectivity must be the turning point. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove 414:When I was 15, I left school to start a magazine, and it became a success because I wouldn't take no for an answer. I remember banging on James Baldwin's door to ask for an interview when he came to England. Then I got Jean-Paul Sartre's home phone number and asked him to contribute. If I'd been 30, he might have said no, but I was a 15-year-old with passion and he was charmed. Making money was always just a side product of having a good time and creating things nobody'd seen before. ~ richard-branson, @wisdomtrove 415:Hell is other people" has always been misunderstood. It has been thought that what I meant by that was that our relations with other people are always poisoned, that they are invariably hellish relations. But what I really mean is something totally different. I mean that if relations with someone else are twisted, vitiated, then that other person can only be hell. Why? Because … when we think about ourselves, when we try to know ourselves … we use the knowledge of us which other people already have. We judge ourselves with the means other people have and have given us for judging ourselves. ~ jean-paul-sartre, @wisdomtrove *** NEWFULLDB 2.4M ***
1:To be is to do. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
2:Nada, sólo existo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
3:Pakao, to su drugi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
4:We are our choices. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
5:Hell is other people ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
6:Hell is other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
7:Hell is—other people! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
8:J'existe, c'est tout. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
9:Acting is happy agony. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
10:Mourir n'est pas facile ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
11:Hell is for other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
12:Nothingness haunts Being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
13:Words are loaded pistols. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
14:el infierno son los otros. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
15:Existence precedes essence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
16:Hands don't catch thoughts ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
17:I am myself and I am here. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
18:L'enfer, c'est les autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
19:Life is a useless passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
20:Reflection poisons desire. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
21:Man is condemned to be free ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
22:Chitchat debases a language. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
23:La lecture est un rêve libre ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
24:...man is a useless passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
25:Man is condemned to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
26:Man is condemned to be free; ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
27:Existence is an imperfection. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
28:In love, one and one are one. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
29:La lecture est un rêve libre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
30:L'existence précède l'essence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
31:Man must be invented each day ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
32:Men get the war they deserve. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
33:No eres nada más que tu vida. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
34:Tuesday:
Nothing. Existed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
35:But existence is a deflection. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
36:Existence is prior to essence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
37:Tuesday:
Nothing. Existed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
38:Celebrity, for me, equal hatred ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
39:En el fondo, ¿qué busco? No sé. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
40:L'homme est une passion inutile ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
41:Life gave me everything I asked ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
42:This then is the age of reason. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
43:Commitment is an act, not a word ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
44:Tu n'es rien d'autre que ta vie. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
45:All children are mirrors of death ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
46:Commitment is an act, not a word. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
47:In choosing myself, I choose man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
48:Hell is other people at breakfast. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
49:To whomever gives a kiss or a blow ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
50:I was much influenced by Jean-Paul Sartre. ~ Thom Gunn, #NFDB
51:Man is what he wills himself to be. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
52:My pessimism has never been flabby. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
53:Ni siquiera sufrí; me sentía vacío. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
54:We do not judge the people we love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
55:Because we can imagine, we are free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
56:Can you justify your existence then? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
57:Man's existence precedes his essence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
58:To exist is to create your own life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
59:But you have to choose: live or tell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
60:Existence precedes and rules essence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
61:Introspection is always retrospection ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
62:Zaten sözcüklerden gayrı ne var ki... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
63:black, like the circle, did not exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
64:The past is the luxury of proprietors. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
65:to do something is to create existence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
66:What is not possible is not to choose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
67:A man rarely feels like laughing alone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
68:A może nikt nie rozumie własnej twarzy? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
69:It isn't freedom from. It's freedom to. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
70:Man is free rather than man is freedom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
71:Nothingness carries being in its heart. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
72:When you're alone, you're in bad compny ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
73:You are -- your life, and nothing else. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
74:An individual chooses and makes himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
75:hidup yang tak teruji tak layak dijalani ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
76:Peut-on juger une vie sur un seul acte ? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
77:There is no reality exception in action. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
78:To choose not to choose is still to act. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
79:To eat is to appropriate by destruction. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
80:I do not think therefore I am a moustache ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
81:Life begins on the other side of despair. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
82:Ya yaşamayı ya da anlatmayı seçmek gerek. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
83:your judgement judges you and defines you ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
84:I do not think therefore I am a moustache. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
85:I do not think, therefore I am a moustache ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
86:I don't know. Everything. Living. Smoking. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
87:Var olmak susamadan içmek gibi bir şeydir. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
88:God is absence. God is the solitude of man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
89:I do not think, therefore I am a moustache. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
90:I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
91:¿Qué puede temerse de un mundo tan regular? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
92:I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
93:Is there really nothing, nothing left of me? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
94:It is disgusting -- Why must we have bodies? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
95:I was a neophyte in another world [in 1954]. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
96:Le monde est était une comédie sans acteurs. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
97:Some of these days, Oh, you'll miss me honey ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
98:Vaikai ir kareiviai apie mirusius negalvoja. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
99:Freedom is what we do with what is done to us ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
100:I considered calmly that I was born to write. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
101:I hate victims who respect their executioners ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
102:Only he who knows how to speak can be silent. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
103:Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer c'est les autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
104:Seuls les actes décident de ce qu'on a voulu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
105:Seuls les actes décident de ce qu’on a voulu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
106:When the rich wage war it's the poor who die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
107:Better a good journalist than a poor assassin. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
108:Death is a continuation of my life without me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
109:Freedom is what we do with what is done to us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
110:I hate victims who respect their executioners. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
111:Nothing can interrupt it yet all can break it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
112:Photographs are not ideas. They give us ideas. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
113:The flesh is the pure contingency of presence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
114:We must act out passion before we can feel it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
115:What is there to fear in such a regular world? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
116:When the rich wage war, it's the poor who die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
117:Heroism is not to be won at the point of a pen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
118:I am illuminated within by a diminishing light. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
119:içimde olup bitenler, belirgin izler bırakmadı. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
120:I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
121:If I were in their place, I’d fall over myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
122:I had spent my time
counterfeiting eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
123:It is always more valuable to report the truth. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
124:Man is the being whose project it is to be God. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
125:Some of these days,
Oh, you'll miss me honey ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
126:También ellos necesitan ser muchos para existir ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
127:You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
128:All men are Prophets or else God does not exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
129:But an adventure never returns nor is prolonged. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
130:Death is a continuation of my life without me... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
131:Every word has consequences. Every silence, too. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
132:Il y a quelque chose de coincé dans le mécanisme ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
133:L'enfer, c'est les autres [Hell is other people] ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
134:Ma liberté s'arrête ou commence celle d'autrui. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
135:Every word has consequences. Every silence, too. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, #NFDB
136:...I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
137:I know only one Church: it is the society of men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
138:Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
139:Možda će i biti ljepših vremena, ali ovo je naše. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
140:One does not adopt a new idea, one slips into it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
141:We have so much difficulty imagining nothingness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
142:We make our own hell out of the people around us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
143:A lost battle is a battle one thinks one has lost. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
144:Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
145:It is only in our decisions that we are important. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
146:Los objetos no deberían tocar, puesto que no viven ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
147:The true sea is cold and black, full of animals... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
148:You are what you are not and are not what you are. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
149:Bivanje je polnost, ki je človek ne more zapustiti. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
150:Everything has been figured out, except how to live ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
151:I confused things with their names: that is belief. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
152:So I was a poodle of the future; I made prophecies. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
153:Un hombe es lo que hace, con lo que hicieron de el. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
154:Who can exhaust a man? Who knows a man's resources? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
155:emotion is first of all and in principle an accident ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
156:Everything has been figured out, except how to live. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
157:Existence is a fullness which man can never abandon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
158:existence is a fullness which man can never abandon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
159:Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
160:...freedom only gives you something to be sorry for. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
161:Nommer c'est montrer et [...] montrer c'est changer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
162:Something I didn’t know any more: a sort of joy. The ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
163:Sometimes the truth is too simple for intellectuals. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
164:The existentialist says at once that man is anguish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
165:Violence is good for those who have nothing to lose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
166:You believe that you believe, but you don’t believe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
167:I am free. I haven’t a single reason for living left. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
168:La libertad es lo q haces con lo q está hecho para ti ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
169:Like all dreamers I confuse disenchantment with truth ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
170:Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
171:Never were we freer than under the German Occupation. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
172:Se muere siempre demasiado pronto, o demasiado tarde. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
173:Two people can form a community by excluding a third. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
174:Un roi doit avoir les mêmes souvenirs que ses sujets. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
175:A right is nothing more than the other aspect of duty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
176:Duc în spate o soarta prea grea, pentru tinereţea mea! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
177:I have always been an optimist, perhaps even too much. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
178:La Solitude est un condition necessaire de la liberte. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
179:L'enfer c'est les autres.
aka, "Hell is others." . ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
180:Like all dreamers I confuse disenchantment with truth. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
181:Like all dreamers, I mistook disenchantment for truth. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
182:one cannot hate a man more than one can love him.” The ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
183:Solo los actos deciden acerca de lo que se ha querido. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
184:Words are more treacherous and powerful than we think. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
185:Ama biz, yarının henüz orada olmadığını hep unutuyoruz. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
186:Lo que me asombra es sentirme tan triste y tan cansado. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
187:Siempre muere uno demasiado pronto...o demasiado tarde. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
188:Better to die on one's feet than to live on one's knees. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
189:I admire the way we can lie, putting reason on our side. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
190:I have changed as everyone changes: within a permanency. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
191:It’s strange. I felt less lonely when I didn’t know you. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
192:Man is fully responsible for his nature and his choices. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
193:Only the guy who isn't rowing has time to rock the boat. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
194:There may be more beautiful times, but this one is ours. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
195:Yes, I am so free. And what a superb absence is my soul. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
196:I am never any one of my attitudes, any one of my actions ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
197:Little flashes of sun on the surface of a cold, dark sea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
198:Podobno bardzo onieśmiela ludzi, gdyż nigdy nic nie mówi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
199:The more absurd life is, the more insupportable death is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
200:Un Hombre es todo lo que hace, con lo que hicieron de el. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
201:When it is dark, the objects and I will come out of limbo ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
202:¿Cómo se puede mentir poniendo a la razón de parte de uno? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
203:If you're lonely when you're alone, you're in bad company. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
204:je prenais tout au sérieux, comme si j'avais été immortel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
205:L'homme est une passion inutile. Man is a useless passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
206:Man is condemned to be free. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Existentialism and Humanism, #NFDB
207:Quisiera ver claro en mí antes de que sea demasiado tarde. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
208:There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is--other people! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
209:Yapayalnızım, ama kentin üzerine yürüyen bir ordu gibiyim. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
210:Freedom is existence, and in it existence precedes essence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
211:I am a man, Jupiter, and each man must invent his own path. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
212:If the Jew did not exist, the anti-Semite would invent him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
213:El amor es una gran cosa poética que es preciso no espantar. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
214:If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
215:It is better; heavier, crueler. The mouth you wear for hell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
216:I would like to see the truth clearly before it is too late. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
217:Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
218:Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
219:The genius of Proust is the totality of the works of Proust. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
220:The plight of modern man is that he is condemmed to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
221:C'est tout pareil quand on a perdu l'illusion d'être eternel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
222:Happiness is not doing what you want but wanting what you do. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
223:Human feeling. That's beyond my range. I'm rotten to the core ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
224:I had as much desire to eat with him as I had to hang myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
225:Impossibile, si è creature nate sotto il cielo, ecco il male. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
226:My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I'm going to sleep. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
227:One cannot become a saint when one works sixteen hours a day. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
228:Poetry creates the myth, the prose writer draws its portrait. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
229:¿Quieres creer en mí? Te querría entonces más que a mí mismo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
230:There is no need for hell fire in hell. Hell is other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
231:We had a horrible fear of him because we sensed he was alone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
232:Faire, et en faisant se faire et n'être rien que ce qu'on fait ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
233:Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
234:Human feeling. That's beyond my range. I'm rotten to the core. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
235:If you are lonely when you are alone, you are in bad company. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, #NFDB
236:I have no need for good souls: an accomplice is what I wanted. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
237:Le teníamos un miedo horrible porque sabíamos que estaba solo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
238:Presupun că numai din lene lumea e aceeaşi de la o zi la alta. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
239:Then time started flowing again and the emptiness grew larger. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
240:This joy was used up a long time ago. Will it be reborn today? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
241:To think new thoughts you have to break the bones in your head ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
242:Anyhow, isn't it better to think we've got here by
mistake? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
243:…even today, I would rather read ‘thrillers’ than Wittgenstein. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
244:I distrust the incommunicable; it is the source of all violence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
245:Man is fully responsible for his nature, choices and lifestyle. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
246:Smooth and smiling faces everywhere, but ruin in their eyes.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre,#NFDB
247:There are two ways to go to the gas chamber, free and not free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
248:There is no human nature, since there is no god to conceive it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
249:they think about Tomorrow, that is to say, simply, a new today; ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
250:To know what life is worth you have to risk it once in a while. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
251:Ah! Do not judge the gods, young man, they have painful secrets. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
252:An existant can never justify the existence of another existant. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
253:Faire souffrir c'est posséder et créer tout autant que détruire. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
254:I see the insipid flesh blossoming and palpitating with abandon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
255:It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
256:Mein augenblickliches Leben ist nicht besonders glanzvoll, [...] ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
257:No finite point has meaning without an infinite reference point. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
258:Once Right has taken hold of a man exorcism cannot drive it out. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
259:The distance between the being and the conscience is the nothing ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
260:The form [of literature] matters little to me, classical or not. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
261:The universe remains dark. We are animals struck by catastrophe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
262:All-powerful god, who am I but the fear that I inspire in others? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
263:All that I know about my life, it seems, I have learned in books. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
264:El criminal no hace la belleza; él mismo es la auténtica belleza. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
265:From time to time I yawn so widely that tears roll down my cheek. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
266:I am a mere breath of air; a formless thought that thinks of you. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
267:I am responsible for everything... except my very responsibility. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
268:I go out. Why? Well,because I have no reason not to go out either ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
269:Supongo que uno no puede prever los inconvenientes de la soledad. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
270:The coward makes himself cowardly, the hero makes himself heroic. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
271:a writer should not allow himself to be turned into an institution ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
272:Bu akşam, birdenbire kendimi biraz zavallı hissettim. Sonra geçti. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
273:El mundo de las explicaciones y razones no es el de la existencia. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
274:Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
275:I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
276:I should wish [Alain Robbe-Grillet] to realize that Guinea exists. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
277:It is meaningless that we are born, it is meaningless that we die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
278:To read a poem in January is as lovely as to go for a walk in June ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
279:You have to aspire to everything to have hopes of doing something. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
280:A great menace weighs over the city," I said politely, and went on. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
281:A writer should not allow himself to be turned into an institution. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
282:For a consciousness to be capable of imagining…it needs to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
283:I believe, I desire, that social and economic ills may be remedied. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
284:I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
285:I had been born in order to fill
the great need I had of myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
286:Il ne s'agit pas de choisit son époque, mais de se choisir en elle. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
287:J'étais un enfant, ce monstre qu'ils fabriquent avec leurs regrets. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
288:What people would like is that a coward or a hero be born that way. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
289:Felicidad no es hacer lo que uno quiere sino querer lo que uno hace. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
290:I am not recommending "popular" literature which aims at the lowest. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
291:Je n'ai pas rêvé cet héroïsme. Je l'ai choisi. On est ce qu'on veut. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
292:Bu dert öyle belirsiz, öyle metafizik bir şey ki, utanıyorum doğrusu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
293:I found the human heart empty and insipid everywhere except in books. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
294:I tell you in truth: all men are Prophets or else God does not exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
295:My existence began to worry me seriously. Was I not a simple spectre? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
296:The Intellectual is someone who meddles in what does not concern him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
297:Thing are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
298:I had spent my time counterfeiting eternity, I had understood nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
299:I must wash myself clean with abstract thoughts, transparent as water. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
300:İnan bana, her şeye kendini kandırmaya çalışmadan bakmak, en iyisidir. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
301:Life has no meaning the moment you lose the illusion of being eternal. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
302:Tu ești pentru mine relația necesară. Toți ceilalți sunt întâmplători. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
303:Uncalled-for aggression arouses the hatred of the civilian population. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
304:You must be afraid, my son. That is how one becomes an honest citizen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
305:All I really want to do is go to the book store , drink coffee and read ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
306:Criticism often takes from the tree caterpillars and blossoms together. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
307:Every sound comes into my ears dirty because you've heard it on the way ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
308:L'homme est condamne a' e" tre libre. Man is condemned to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
309:L'homme est condamné à être libre (Manusia dikutuk untuk menjadi bebas) ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
310:Life has no meaning, the moment you lose the illusion of being eternal. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
311:« On peut toujours faire quelque chose de ce que l'on a fait de nous. » ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
312:The characteristic of every neurosis is to represent itself as natural. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
313:To be responsible is to be the uncontested author of an event or thing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
314:What is life but an unpleasant interruption to a peaceful nonexistence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
315:When one does nothing, one believes oneself responsible for everything. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
316:Aunque me quisiera con toda su alma, sería igualmente un amor de muerta. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
317:I am the Thing. Existence, liberated, released, surges over me. I exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
318:Man is always a wizard to man, and the social world is at first magical. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
319:Our job as a writer is to represent the world and to bear witness to it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
320:The consciousness that says 'I am' is not the consciousness that thinks. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
321:There it is: I am gently slipping into the water's depths, towards fear. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
322:the worst part about being lied to is knowing you werent worth the truth ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
323:...what we might call everyday morality is exclusive of ethical anguish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
324:Ah ! quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril : l'enfer, c'est les Autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
325:Cada día te pareces un poco más al cadáver que serás y yo te amo siempre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
326:I shall never sleep again. But
then—how shall I endure my own company? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
327:La patronne était là, j'ai dû la baiser, mais c'était bien par politesse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
328:The writer, a free man adressing free men, has only one subject - freedom ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
329:Three o’clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
330:When a man gets drunk he gets sentimental. That's what I wanted to avoid. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
331:Why do you keep maintaining your ideas are right if you can't prove them? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
332:Better to have beasts that let themselves be killed than men who run away. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
333:In my case, I chose writing in place of death, and because I lacked faith. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
334:It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
335:Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
336:Thus pleasure itself, also becoming a right, lost its aggressive futility. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
337:In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
338:J'ai commencé ma vie comme je la finirai sans doute : au milieu des livres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
339:A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
340:She believed in nothing. Only her scepticism kept her from being an atheist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
341:She believed in nothing; only her skepticism kept her from being an atheist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
342:She believed in nothing; only her skepticism kept her from being an athiest. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
343:The best work is not what is most difficult for you; it is what you do best. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
344:What is boredom? It is when there is simultaneously too much and not enough. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
345:Atheism is a cruel long term business, and I have gone through it to the end. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
346:I am rather...astonished at this life which is given to me- given for nothing ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
347:If you seek authenticity for authenticity's sake you are no longer authentic. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
348:If you seek authenticity for authenticity’s sake you are no longer authentic. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
349:In Guinea I could read [Franz] Kafka. I re-discover in him my own discomfort. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
350:I think that is the big danger in keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
351:Siempre es demasiado tarde o demasiado temprano para lo que uno quiere hacer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
352:To believe is to know you believe, and to know you believe is not to believe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
353:What a torment it is not to be rich! It gets one into such abject situations. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
354:what summits would I not reach if my own life made the subject of the melody. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
355:Genius is not a gift, but the way a person invents in desperate circumstances. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
356:If you’re lonely when you’re alone, you’re in bad company.” – Jean-Paul Sartre ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
357:Il n'y a de réalité que dans l'action. (There is no reality except in action.) ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
358:People are like dice. We throw ourselves in the direction of our own choosing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
359:Several hours or several years make no difference once you have lost eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
360:Si vous êtes solitaire, quand vous êtes seul, vous êtes en mauvaise compagnie. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
361:The poor don't know that their function in life is to exercise our generosity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
362:Unser Leben hängt davon ab, was wir aus dem machen, was aus uns gemacht wurde. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
363:When rich people fight wars with one another, poor people are the ones to die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
364:You're lucky. I'm always conscious of myself —in my mind. Painfully conscious. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
365:All human actions are equivalent... and all are on principle doomed to failure. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
366:Every human endeavor, however singular it seems, involves the whole human race. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
367:He was free, free for everything, free to act like an animal or like a machine. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
368:I found everything perfectly clear, and I really understood absolutely nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
369:...kutsal bir sektör laikleştirildikçe, tanrı yeniden göğe yükselmeye hazırdır. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
370:Man exists, turns up, appears on the scene and only afterwards, defines himself ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
371:Originally, poetry creates the myth, while the prose-writer draws its portrait. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
372:The only being which can be called free is the being which nihilates its being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
373:Things are entirely what they appear to be and behind them... there is nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
374:When we love animals and children too much, we love them at the expense of men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
375:as Jean-Paul Sartre put it, “Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you.” What ~ Eula Biss, #NFDB
376:How can I, who was not able to retain my own past, hope to save that of another? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
377:I have no religion, but if I were to choose one, it would be that of Shariati's. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
378:On this Earth that bleeds, all joy is obscene, and all happy men must live alone ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
379:Respectable society believed in God in order to avoid having to speak about him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
380:So gather me up, dear, fold me to your heart – and you’ll see how nice I can be. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
381:Todavía no estoy en el infierno y ya tengo mis pequeñas costumbres de condenado. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
382:When she is alone in the rooms I hear her humming to keep herself from thinking. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
383:I admire [Samuel] Beckett, but I am totally against him. He seeks no improvement. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
384:It is the same: a chosen one is a man whom God's finger crushes against the wall. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
385:Once you hear the details of victory, it is hard to distinguish it from a defeat. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
386:On this Earth that bleeds, all joy is obscene, and all happy men must live alone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
387:She believed in nothing, if it wasn't for her skepticism she would be an athiest. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
388:There is no book of mine that I reject. That does not mean that I find them good. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
389:Tout existant naît sans raison, se prolonge par faiblesse et meurt par rencontre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
390:At the same time, I learned that you always lose. Only the rascals think they win. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
391:Fascism is not defined by the number of its victims, but by the way it kills them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
392:I can receive nothing more from these tragic solitudes than a little empty purity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
393:If literature isn't everything, it's not worth a single hour of someone's trouble. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
394:Je ne suis rien que le regard qui te voit, que cette pensée incolore qui te pense. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
395:Once freedom lights its beacon in man's heart, the gods are powerless against him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
396:People are like dice, you throw yourself in the direction of your own choosing.... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
397:What's done at night belongs to the night. In the daytime you don't talk about it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
398:When one loves animals and children too much, one loves them against human beings. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
399:Remember you're not alone; you've no right to inflict the sight of your fear on me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
400:Ah! How I hate the crimes of the new generation: they are dry and sterile as darnel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
401:Existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing - not even a memory. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
402:... how nice it is to know you are so profoundly happy, it's had me beaming all day. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
403:Man lives in the midst of images. Literature offers him a critical image of himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
404:This is the girl, here, this girl with a ruined look who touches me and whom I love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
405:Todo lo que existe nace sin razón, se prolonga por debilidad, y muere por casualidad ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
406:Even if she loved him with all her heart, it would still be the love of a dead woman. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
407:Evil is the product of the ability of humans to make abstract that which is concrete. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
408:Il n'y a de réalité que dans l'action.
(There is no reality except in action.) ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
409:it was odd, he thought, that a man could hate himself as though he were someone else. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
410:That’s what existence means: draining one’s own self dry without the sense of thirst. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
411:Ya no puedo recibir de estas soledades trágicas nada más que un poco de pureza vacía. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
412:As far as men go, it is not what they are that interests me, but what they can become. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
413:He who asks a question is a fool for a minute; he who does not remains a fool forever. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
414:I can always choose, but I ought to know that if I do not choose, I am still choosing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
415:So long as one believes in God, one has the right to do the Good in order to be moral. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
416:There is no salvation anywhere. The idea of salvation implies the idea of an absolute. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
417:What is important is not what happens to us, but how we respond to what happens to us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
418:Every belief is a belief that falls short; one never wholly believes what one believes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
419:It is enough that one man hate another for hate to gain, little by little, all mankind. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
420:That is exactly the writer's problem. What does literature stand for in a hungry world? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
421:Besides one should not believe that the people only want reading that is easy to absorb. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
422:But this richness was lost in confusion and finally was no more because it was too much. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
423:Çevremdeki bütün nesneler benimle aynı maddeden, yani bir çeşit sakil acıdan yapılmıştı. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
424:Intellectuals cannot be good revolutionaries; they are just good enough to be assassins. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
425:Politics is a science. You can demonstrate that you are right and that others are wrong. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
426:We are in hell, my dear, there is never a mistake and people are not damned for nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
427:I am not virtuous. Our sons will be if we shed enough blood to give them the right to be. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
428:I had dreamed my life for nearly fifty years (I am about to be fifty-nine). But, you see, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
429:Neither sad nor gay is the desert—a boundless waste of sand under a burning waste of sky. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
430:Once liberty has exploded in the soul of a man, the gods can do nothing against that man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
431:One should commit no stupidity twice, the variety of choice is, in the end, large enough. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
432:Thus it amounts to the same thing whether one gets drunk alone or is a leader of nations. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
433:To be is to do”—Socrates. “To do is to be”—Jean-Paul Sartre. “Do be do be do”—Frank Sinatra. ~ Kurt Vonnegut, #NFDB
434:A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
435:Creo que soy yo el que ha cambiado, es la solución más simple, también la más desagradable ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
436:I think [Alain Robbe-Grillet] a good writer, but he speaks to the comfortable bourgeoisie. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
437:I wrote in Les Mots that "I have often thought against myself." That sentence has not been ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
438:No se es escritor por haber elegido decir ciertas cosas, sino por la forma en que se digan ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
439:That of War and Peace or of Almagestes. All are satisfactory. The only criterion of a work ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
440:We do not know what we want and yet we are responsible for what we are - that is the fact. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
441:Yalnızlığın sınırında insanların yanında duruyorum. Bir tehlike anında onlara sığınacağım. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
442:[Andre] Gide can say it to me: it is a writer's morality only addressed to a few privileged ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
443:Dans les églises, à la clarté des cierges, un homme boit du vin devant des femmes à genoux. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
444:He is always becoming, and if it were not for the contingency of death, he would never end. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
445:Her smiles, her mimicries, all the words she uttered were addressed to herself through him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
446:I receive letters from workers, from secretaries. . . . They are the most interesting ones. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
447:Man is a useless passion. It is meaningless that we live and it is meaningless that we die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
448:No street corner has any justification over another one. Custom dissolves into nothingness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
449:My memories are like coins in the devil's purse: when you open it you find only dead leaves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
450:My memories are like coins in the devil’s purse: when you open it you find only dead leaves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
451:The most clear-sided view of the darkest
possible situation is itself an act of optimism ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
452:As Jean-Paul Sartre said, we are the sum total of our actions. What is in our hearts does not matter. ~ Ted Rall, #NFDB
453:Cand albii vorbesc intre ei fara sa se cunoasca, inseamna ca pe un negru il pandeste moartea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
454:Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
455:Anny karşımda, dört yıldır birbirimizi görmedik, ama birbirimize söyleyecek sözümüz yok artık. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
456:That God does not exist, I cannot deny, That my whole being cries out for God I cannot forget. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
457:The letters I had inscribed on it were not even dry yet and already they belonged to the past. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
458:Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
459:For an occurrence to become an adventure, it is necessary and sufficient for one to recount it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
460:I am free,’ he said suddenly. And his joy changed, on the spot, to a crushing sense of anguish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
461:I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
462:Man is not only that which he conceives himself to be, but that which he wills himself to be... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
463:Nasmeh dreves, lovorovega zelenja, to je nekaj pomenilo, to je bila resnična skrivnost bivanja. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
464:Nu sunt atât de laș ca să îmi fie teamă că fac pe cineva să sufere atunci când trebuie s-o fac. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
465:To believe is to know that one believes, and to know that one believes is no longer to believe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
466:What never vary are the necessities of being in the world, of having to labor and to die there. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
467:Consciousness is a being the nature of which is to be conscious of the nothingness of its being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
468:Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
469:Fear? If I have gained anything by damning myself, it is that I no longer have anything to fear. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
470:How far away from them I feel, up on this hill. It seems to me that I belong to another species. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
471:Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. Such is the first principle of existentialism. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
472:My existence was beginning to cause me serious concern. Was I a mere figment of the imagination? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
473:Our responsibility is much greater than we might have supposed, because it involves all mankind. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
474:When the rich [and politically powerful] make war, it's the poor [and politically weak] who die. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
475:Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness, and dies by chance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
476:I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have dragged through I don't know how many consciences. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
477:The more one is absorbed in fighting evil, the less one is tempted to place the good in question. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
478:The simplest, most indefinable quality had too much content, in relation to itself, in its heart. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
479:This is the basis for the joy of love when there is joy; we feel that our existence is justified. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
480:Algo comienza para terminar: la aventura no admite añadidos;
sólo cobra sentido con su muerte. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
481:a wise person can want nothing better from life than to pay back the wrong that has been done him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
482:Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance. I ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
483:It is a profound boredom, profound, the profound heart of existence, the very matter I am made of. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
484:Respectable society believed in God in order to avoid having to speak about him. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, The Words (1964), #NFDB
485:Tout homme a son lieu naturel; ni l'orgueil ni la valeur n'en fixent l'altitude: l'enfance décide. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
486:We have to deal with human reality as a being which is what it is not and which is not what it is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
487:What do I care about Jupiter? Justice is a human issue, and I do not need a god to teach it to me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
488:A good hanging now and then -- that entertains folk in the provinces and robs death of its glamour. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
489:All these creatures spend their time explaining, realizing happily that they agree with each other. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
490:A man is always a teller of stories (...) and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
491:Fabrikalar, kırsal alanı mahvediyordu ve büyükbabam, soyut bilimlerde yalnızca soyutluğu seviyordu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
492:Gesti, gesti, piccole distruzioni, che cosa significano, io ho creduto che questa fosse la libertà. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
493:I'd come to realize that all our troubles spring from our failure to use plain, clear-cut language. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
494:If you are not already dead, forgive. Rancor is heavy, it is worldly; leave it on earth: die light. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
495:Now I knew: things are entirely what they appear to be—and behind them . . . there is nothing. This ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
496:The painful secret of gods and kings is that men are free, Aegistheus. You know it and they do not. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
497:The world would get along very well without literature. It would get along even better without man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
498:Varlığı bir rezaletti ve daha sonra üstüne alacağı sorumluluklar bu rezaleti doğrulamaya yetecekti. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
499:As if there could be true stories: things happen in one way, and we retell them in the opposite way. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
500:Hell is other people,” said Jean-Paul Sartre. “Hell is other real people,’ is what he should have said. ~ Kurt Vonnegut, #NFDB
501:The more sand that has escaped from the hourglass of our life, the clearer we should see through it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
502:The revolution you dream of is not ours. You don't want to change the world; you want to blow it up. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
503:A political system devoted to decline instinctively does much to speed up that process. —Jean-Paul Sartre ~ Norman Ohler, #NFDB
504:Do you regret those days?'
'No,' replied Marcelle acidly: 'but I regret the life I might have had. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
505:Her eyes stare at me but she seems not to see me; she looks as though she were lost in her suffering. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
506:If you begin by saying, 'Thou shalt not lie,' there is no longer any possibility of political action. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
507:I think your self emerges more clearly over time. —Meryl Streep Acting is happy agony. —Jean-Paul Sartre ~ Lauren Graham, #NFDB
508:L'importance n'est pas ce que l'on fait de l'Homme, mais ce qu'il fait de ce que l'on a fait de lui". ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
509:My odd feelings of the other week seem to me quite ridiculous today: I can no longer enter into them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
510:The painful secret of gods and kings is that men are free... You know it and they do not. ~ Jean-Paul Sartre, The Flies, #NFDB
511:This desire [to write] is rather strange all the same and is not without a certain "cracked" quality. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
512:To be is to do’ — Socrates.
‘To do is to be’ — Jean-Paul Sartre.
‘Do be do be do’ — Frank Sinatra. ~ Kurt Vonnegut,#NFDB
513:Acting is a question of absorbing other people's personalities and adding some of your own experience. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
514:¿Cómo yo, que no he tenido fuerzas para retener mi propio pasado puedo esperar que salvaré el de otro? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
515:El tiempo es demasiado ancho, no se deja llenar. Todo lo que uno sumerge en él se ablanda y se estira. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
516:Everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
517:I am alone in this white, garden-rimmed street. Alone and free. But this freedom is rather like death. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
518:I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
519:I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have been dragged through I don't know how many consciences. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
520:I entered the Communist Party because its cause was just and I will leave it when it ceases to be just. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
521:If God does not exist, are we provided with any values or commands that could legitimise our behaviour. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
522:I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
523:Just the opposite for me, all is drowned in poetic impression; I am ready for all concessions. Suddenly ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
524:Night is falling: at dusk, you must have good eyesight to be able to tell the Good Lord from the Devil. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
525:Outside nature, against nature, without excuse, beyond remedy, except what remedy I find within myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
526:Time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
527:We only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
528:What I see is teeming cohesion, contained dispersal... For him, to sculpt is to take the fat off space. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
529:You exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
530:A chaque instant je puis m'éveiller et je le sais; mais je ne le veux pas: la lecture est un rêve libre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
531:El hombre esta alienado, pero antes de estar alienado fue libre. Solo le queda reconquistar su libertad. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
532:È vero che non sei responsabile di quello che sei, ma sei responsabile di quello che fai di ciò che sei. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
533:General ideas are more flattering. And then professionals and even amateurs always end up by being right ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
534:I am going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
535:I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
536:Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote, “Evil is not an appearance,” adding that “knowing its causes does not dispel it. ~ Sue Klebold, #NFDB
537:Oysa sevmişti o, yaşamak istemişti ve kendini ölürken görmüştü; bunlar bir insanın insan olmasına yeter. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
538:I have seen children dying of hunger. Over against a dying child La Nausee cannot act as a counterweight. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
539:I will not be modest. Humble, as much as you like, but not modest. Modesty is the virtue of the lukewarm. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
540:People. You must love people. Men are admirable. I want
to vomit—and suddenly, there it is: the Nausea ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
541:Pero en el seno mismo de ese éxtasis, acababa de aparecer algo nuevo: yo comprendía la Náusea, la poesía. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
542:Tú serás lo que quieras: agua pura, agua sucia. Te reconocerás en el fondo de mis ojos como tú te deseas. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
543:When I can't see myself in the mirror, I can't even feel myself, and I begin to wonder if I exist at all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
544:A man who is free is like a mangy sheep in a herd. He will contaminate my entire kingdom and ruin my work. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
545:A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness...and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
546:Ela não tem amizade por mim. Nem ternura. Nem estima. Ela me ama, simplesmente: qual de nós dois é o pior? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
547:I respect orders but I respect myself too and I do not obey foolish rules made especially to humiliate me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
548:Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
549:My thought is me: that is why I cannot stop thinking. I exist because I think I cannot keep from thinking. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
550:One could only damage oneself through the harm one did to others. One could never get directly at oneself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
551:Un homme n'est rien d'autre qu'une se rie d'entreprises. A man is no other than a series of undertakings. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
552:El peligro de llevar un diario es que se exagera todo, uno esta al acecho, forzando continuamente la verdad ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
553:I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre,#NFDB
554:Qarjet e të rriturve ishin si një katastrofë mistike, diçka si lotët që derdh Zoti për ligësinë e njerëzve. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
555:The real nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, all that was not present did not exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
556:There is only one day left, always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
557:There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
558:Biz gümbürtüye gitmiş insanlarız," diyordu gururla, "biz hayatı ıskalayanlardanız. Hiçbir işe yaramayacağız. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
559:Do you think I can read [Alain] Robbe-Grillet in an underdeveloped country? He does not feel himself maimed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
560:Ideas come in pairs and they contradict one another; their opposition is the principal engine of reflection. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
561:I say a murder is abstract. You pull the trigger and after that you do not understand anything that happens. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
562:L'important n'est pas ce qu'on fait de nous, mais ce que nous faisons nous-mêmes de ce qu'on a fait de nous. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
563:Pour que l'événement le plus banal devienne une aventure, il faut et il suffit qu'on se mette à le raconter. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
564:The appearance of the other in the world corresponds therefore to a congealed sliding of the whole universe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
565:Absurd, irreducible; nothing--not even a profound and secret delirium of nature--could explain [a tree root]. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
566:But you looked much more like a fellow who had just realised that he has been living on ideas that don’t pay. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
567:Je ne pourrai jamais m'assesoir dessus, c'est une catastrophe: Je suis en bleue clair et il est vert épinard. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
568:[...] les mauvaises herbes poussent, elles aussi; preuve qu'on peut devenir grand sans cesser d'être mauvais. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
569:Meus estranhos sentimentos da outra semana me parecem hoje bastante ridículos; já não me identifico com eles. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
570:Perhaps its inevitable, perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all and impersonating what one is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
571:Tarih, var olmuş olan bir şeyden söz eder; oysa bir var olan başka bir var olanın varoluşunu haklı çıkaramaz. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
572:What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
573:Don't you feel the same way? When I cannot see myself, even though I touch myself, I wonder if I really exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
574:If I didn't try to assume responsibility for my own existence, it would seem utterly absurd to go on existing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
575:M. de Rollebon was my partner; he needed me in order to exist and I needed him so as not to feel my existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
576:You see, the contemporary writer must write through his intimations of unease, while trying to elucidate them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
577:For a moment I wondered if I were not going to
love humanity. But, after all, it was their Sunday, not mine. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
578:No doctrine is more optimistic [than existentialism], since it declares that man's destiny lies within himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
579:Philosophy which does not help to illuminate the process of the liberation of the oppressed should be rejected. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
580:Comprendo muy bien que he ido demasiado lejos. Supongo que uno no puede prever los inconvenientes de la soledad. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
581:Everything looks so much alike that you wonder how people got the idea of inventing names, to make distinctions. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
582:İnsan kendi kendine sormalı," diye düşündü Mösyö Darbédat, sorumluluk nerede başlar ya da daha çok nerede biter? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
583:Jean-Paul Sartre once wrote, “Evil is not an appearance,” adding that “knowing its causes does not dispel it.” Sartre ~ Sue Klebold, #NFDB
584:Canturrea para no pensar, padece como una avara, a veces desea sufrir un buen golpe, hundirse en la desesperación ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
585:I am, I am, I exist, I think therefore I am; I am because I think, why do I think? I don't want to think anymore. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
586:I am sure that fifteen minutes would be enough to reach supreme self-contempt. No thank you, I want none of that. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
587:Wiem bardzo dobrze, że nie chcę nic robić: czynić cokolwiek to stwarzać istnienie – a jest i tak wiele istnienia. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
588:Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
589:[Contemporary writer] could be a kind of [Samuel] Beckett who would not be felt to be totally committed to despair. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
590:I was escaping from Nature and at last becoming myself, that Other whom I was aspiring to be in the eyes of others. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
591:(...) por definición, la existencia no es la necesidad. Existir es estar ahí, simplemente; los existentes aparecen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
592:I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It always made me want to do just the opposite. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
593:This [service to oppressed] is the writer's task, and, if he fulfills it as he should, he acquires no merit from it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
594:He pensado lo siguiente: para que el suceso más trivial se convierta en aventura, es necesario y suficiente contarlo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
595:There is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
596:The viable jewels of life remain untouched when man forgets his vocation of searching for the truth of his existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
597:To doświadczenie zawodowe: lekarze, księża, urzędnicy i oficerowie znają się
na człowieku tak, jakby go stworzyli. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
598:We cannot withdraw our cards from the game. Were we as silent and mute as stones, our very passivity would be an act. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
599:In Les Mots I explain the origin of my madness, of my neurosis. This analysis may help the young who dream of writing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
600:Je ne suis ni le maître ni l'esclave, Jupiter. Je suis ma liberté! À peine m'as-tu créé que j'ai cessé de t'appartenir ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
601:Man is not the sum of what he has already, but rather the sum of what he does not yet have, of what he could have.
~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
602:Once they have slept together they will have to find something else to veil the enormous absurdity of their existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
603:For the time being I have seen enough of living things, of dogs, of men, of all flabby masses which move spontaneously. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
604:I never could bear the idea of anyone's expecting something from me. It
always made me want to do just the opposite. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
605:Take [Stéphane] Mallarme. I hold him to be the greatest of French poets, and I have taken some time to understand him ! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
606:Tikėjimas, nors ir labai gilus, niekad nesti pilnutinis. Jį reikia be paliovos kurstyti ar bent jau stengtis negriauti. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
607:What I lacked [in La Nausee] was a sense of reality. I have changed since. I have slowly learned to experience reality. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
608:As long as the writer cannot write for the two billion men who are hungry, he will be oppressed by a feeling of malaise. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
609:At that time [1954], as a result of political events, I was deeply preoccupied by my relations with the Communist Party. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
610:Faith, even when profound, is never complete. It has to be endlessly sustained or, at least, preserved from destruction. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
611:I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
612:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all.
There are no beginnings. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
613:She is dearer to me than life. But her suffering comes from within, and only she can rid herself of it. For she is free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
614:Y se acerca el día en el que se dirá, cerrando el último volumen
del último estante del extremo izquierdo: “¿y ahora? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
615:A madman's ravings are absurd in relation to the situation in which he finds himself, but not in relation to his madness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
616:I was only a means of making him live, he was my reason for living, he had delivered me from myself. What shall I do now? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
617:Life has no meaning a priori… It is up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing but the meaning that you choose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
618:No quiero secretos, ni estados de alma, ni cosas indecibles; no soy ni virgen ni sacerdote para jugar a la vida interior. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
619:Three o'clock. Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. An odd moment in the afternoon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
620:I am not asking for sensational revelations, but I would like to sense the meaning of that minute, to feel it's urgency... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
621:I do not understand! I understand nothing! I cannot understand nor do I want to understand! I want to believe! To Believe! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
622:I want no secrets or soul-states, nothing ineffable; I am neither
virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
623:Men equally honest, equally devoted to their fatherland, are momentarily separated by different conceptions of their duty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
624:Sizi sürükleyen dalgadır,yaşam bu; ne yargılanabilir, ne anlaşılabilir, bırakın gitsin demekten başka yapacak bir şey yok. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
625:Eres un mocoso a quien le cuesta pasar a la edad adulta, pero serás un hombre muy aceptable si alguien te facilita el paso. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
626:Es kommt nicht darauf an, was man aus uns gemacht hat, sondern darauf, was wir aus dem machen, was man aus uns gemacht hat. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
627:For common minds have an ugly ability to perceive in the deepest and richest saying nothing but their own everyday opinion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
628:Handing over a bank note is enough to make a bicycle belong to me, but my entire life is needed to realize this possession. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
629:She is rotting quietly under her skirts with a melancholy smile, like the odour of violets given off by a decomposing body. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
630:Still, somewhere in the depths of ourselves we all harbor an ashamed, unsatisfied melancholy that quietly awaits a funeral. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
631:To exist is simply to he there; those who exist let themselves be encountered, but you can never deduce anything from them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
632:A kiss without a moustache, they said then, is like an egg without salt; I will add to it: and it is like Good without Evil. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
633:Be quiet! Anyone can spit in my face, and call me a criminal and a prostitute. But no one has the right to judge my remorse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
634:Criminals together. We're in hell, my little friend, and there's never any mistake there. People are not damned for nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
635:Man is abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no aim but what he sets himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
636:When you want to understand something you stand in front of it, alone, without help: all the past in the world is of no use. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
637:Başlangıç olmadığı gibi, son da yoktur. Bir kadın, bir dost, bir kent bir kerede terk edilemez. Hepsi birbirine benzer zaten. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
638:I am not quite sure of being a man: I never found it very difficult. It seemed to me that you had only to let yourself alone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
639:If a victory is told in detail, one can no longer distinguish it from a defeat. —JEAN-PAUL SARTRE, Le Diable et le Bon Dieu ~ Catherine Steadman, #NFDB
640:Never have I thought that I was the happy possessor of a "talent;" my sole concern has been to save myself by work and faith. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
641:With older people, it's quite different. They're reliable, they show you what to do, and there's solidity in their affection. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
642:I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
643:Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of, and the of it is nothing other than the sense you choose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
644:nothing that exists can be comic; it was like a floating analogy, almost entirely elusive, with certain aspects of vaudeville. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
645:Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
646:When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell something: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
647:A writer must refuse to allow himself to be transformed into an institution, even if it takes place in the most honorable form. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
648:It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
649:Su niekuo ji nesutikdavo – buvo pernelyg išdidi, kad kovotų dėl pirmos vietos, ir per daug ambicinga, kad pasitenkintų antrąją. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
650:The For-itself, in fact, is nothing but the pure nihilation of the In-itself; it is like a hole of being at the heart of Being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
651:We do not wish to say only that a man is responsible for his own individuality, but that he is responsible for that of all men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
652:When you want to understand something you
stand in front of it, alone, without help: all the past in the world is of no use. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
653:[...] Dehors. Dehors. Hors du monde, hors du passé, hors de moi-même : la liberté c'est l'éxil et je suis condamné à être libre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
654:I am finishing a biography of [Gustave] Flaubert. Because he is the opposite of what I am. One needs to rub up against argument. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
655:I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
656:Jean Paul Sartre şöyle der: ‘Cehennem, başkalarıdır!” Bu cümleyi tamamlamak adına şunu da söylemeliyiz: Cennet de başkalarıdır ~ Mehmet Murat ildan, #NFDB
657:Once they have been to bed together, they will have to find something else to conceal the enormous absurdity of their existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
658:Pas facile, pour le philosophe, de dialoguer si l'interlocuteur met en cause sa doctrine tout en refusant de parler philosophie! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
659:From the period when I wrote La Nausea I wanted to create a morality. My evolution consists in my no longer dreaming of doing so. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
660:He takes a few dazed steps, the waiters turn out the lights and he slips into unconsciousness: when this man is lonely he sleeps. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
661:I do not believe in God; his existence has been disproved by Science. But in the concentration camp, I learned to believe in men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
662:It disturbs me no more to find men base, unjust, or selfish than to see apes mischievous, wolves savage, or the vulture ravenous. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
663:The status of 'native' is a nervous condition introduced and maintained by the settler among colonized people with their consent. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
664:If I did not publish this autobiography [Les Mots] sooner and in its most radical form, it is because I considered it exaggerated. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
665:Imagination is not an empirical or superadded power of consciousness, it is the whole of consciousness as it realizes its freedom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
666:One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one's death, one dies one's life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
667:One of the chief motives of artistic creation is certainly the need of feeling that we are essential in relationship to the world. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
668:[Stéphane Mallarmé] theory of the hermetic is a mistake, but he can be only difficult to read when he has difficult things to say. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
669:The recent experiences of pocketbooks prove this. I have changed my public since my works have been published in a smaller format. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
670:A doll with skin like that isn't going to mess it up with a revolver shot. [...] Revolvers are meant for crocodile-skins like ours. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
671:Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom-ah the soul-destroying boredom-of long days of mild content. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
672:Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom—ah the soul-destroying boredom—of long days of mild content. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
673:I am on the same plane specific object and free subject but never the two at the same time and always the one haunted by the Other. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
674:The [Communist] Party has one objective: the creation of a socialist economy; and one means: the utilization of the class struggle. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
675:I have always been happy. Even if I had been more honest with regard to myself at that moment I should still have written La Nausee. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
676:I have been much too calm these past three years. I can receive nothing more from these tragic solitudes than a little empty purity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
677:I have such a desire to sleep and am so much behind my sleep. A good night, one good night and all this nonsense will be swept away. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
678:Jean-Paul Sartre famously said that “hell is other people,” which is true enough, but truer still is hell is other people’s boyfriends ~ Cheryl Strayed, #NFDB
679:know very well that I don’t want to do anything: to do something is to create existence—and there’s quite enough existence as it is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
680:L'angoisse commence pour un homme et le délaissement et les sueurs de sang, quand il ne peut plus avoir d'autre témoin que lui-même. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
681:To keep hope alive one must, in spite of all mistakes, horrors, and crimes, recognize the obvious superiority of the socialist camp. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
682:With a little luck that epoch may arrive. I am on the side of those who think that things will go better when the world has changed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
683:If I became a philosopher, if I have so keenly sought this fame for which I'm still waiting, it's all been to seduce women basically. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
684:I needed to justify my existence, and I had made an absolute of literature. It took me thirty years to get rid of this state of mind. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
685:It is no longer possible to escape men. Farewell to the monsters, farewell to the saints. Farewell to pride. All that is left is men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
686:Nu-mi simt trupul, m-a cucerit puritatea lucrurilor care mă înconjoară; nimic nu e viu; vântul suflă, linii drepte aleargă în noapte. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
687:Existentialism's first move is to make every man aware of what he is and to make the full responsibility of his existence rest on him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
688:I know very well that I don't want to do anything: to do something is to create existence—and there's quite enough existence as it is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
689:Life is nothing until it is lived; but it is yours to make sense of and the value of it is nothing else but the sense that you choose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
690:Much more likely you’ll hurt me. Still what does it matter? If I’ve got to suffer, it may as well be at your hands, your pretty hands. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
691:The lad who dreams of being a boxing champion or an admiral chooses reality. If the writer chooses the imaginary, he confuses the two. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
692:Jean Paul Sartre may have believed that hell is “other people,” but Swedenborg knew better. Hell, he knew, as well as heaven, is ourselves. ~ Gary Lachman, #NFDB
693:Pilihlah, manusia yang bebas atau mengakui Tuhan sebagai sumber nilai. Bila dipilih yang terakhir manusia tersebut tidak bebas, mutlak. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
694:As the French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre observed, several hours or several years make no difference once you have lost eternity. ~ William Lane Craig, #NFDB
695:A writer who takes political, social or literary positions must act only with the means that are his. These means are the written words. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
696:Before you come alive, life is nothing; it 's up to you to give it a meaning, and value is nothing else but the meaning that you choose. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
697:I am free: there is absolutely no more reason for living, all the ones I have tried have given way and I can’t imagine any more of them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
698:Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. [It is a matter of choice, not chance.] Such is the first principle of existentialism. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
699:I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in . . . but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
700:Aramızda bir yakınlık duygusu yok.
Birbirimize benziyoruz sadece.
Benim gibi o da yalnız, ama yalnızlığının içine daha çok batmış. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
701:Il n’y a de réalité que dans l’action… [L’être humain] n’existe que dans la mesure où il se réalise, il n’est donc rien d’autre que sa vie ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
702:Neither sex, without some fertilization of the complimentary characters of the other, is capable of the highest reaches of human endeavor. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
703:Veo el porvenir. Está allí, en la calle, apenas más pálido que el
presente. ¿Qué necesidad tiene de realizarse?¿Qué ganará con
ello? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
704:All I can do is make the best of what I am, become accustomed to it, evaluate the possibilities, and take advantage of them the best I can. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
705:Have the courage to read this book, for in the first place it will make you ashamed, and shame, as Marx said, is a revolutionary sentiment. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
706:Le secret douloureux des Dieux et des rois: c'est que les hommes sont libres. Ils sont libres Egisthe. Tu le sais, et ils ne le savent pas. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
707:Will you do me the honour of lunching with me on Wednesday?” “With pleasure.” I had as much desire to eat with him as I had to hang myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
708:Wait a minute, there's a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable?...Ah,I see; it's life without a break. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
709:You take souls for vegetables.... The gardener can decide what will become of his carrots but no one can choose the good of others for them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
710:A human being who wakened in the morning with a queesy stomach, with fifteen hours to kill before next bedtime, had not much use for freedom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
711:Ardında bir evren bırakmış, önünde bir evren var. En soldaki son rafın son kitabını bitirdikten sonra, "Peki şimdi?" diyeceği gün yaklaşıyor. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
712:Construyo mis recuerdos con el presente. Estoy desechado, abandonado en el presente. En vano trato de alcanzar el pasado; no puedo escaparme. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
713:So you realized that there were always women in tears, or a red-headed man, or something else to spoil your effects?"
"Yes, naturally. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
714:Jupiter: I am not your king, impudent larva? Who then has created you?
Orestes: You. But you should not have created me free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
715:Everything happens to every man as though the whole human race had its eyes fixed upon what he is doing and regulated its conduct accordingly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
716:Do you think that I count the days? There is only one day left, always starting over: it is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
717:Écrire, c'est faire appel au lecteur pour qu'il fasse passer à l'existence objective le dévoilement que j'ai entrepris par le moyen du langage. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
718:This feeling of adventure definitely does not come from events: I have proved it. It's rather the way in which the moments are linked together. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
719:Jean Paul Sartre says that ‘Hell is other people!’ In the name of completing this sentence we must also say this: ‘Heaven is other people too! ~ Mehmet Murat ildan, #NFDB
720:Revoluţionarul este individul care doreşte să schimbe lumea şi o depăşeşte în sensul viitorului către o ordine a valorilor pe care o inventează. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
721:You see, I'm fond of teasing, it's a second nature with me—and I'm used to teasing myself. Plaguing myself, if you prefer; I don't tease nicely. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
722:Hell is other people. I say quoting Jean Paul Sartre.
And Sartre? I chuckle to myself. He was only half right. Heaven can be other people too. ~ Steve Dublanica,#NFDB
723:I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
724:Mdłości nie znajdują się we mnie: czuję je tam
na ścianie, na szelkach, wszędzie wokół mnie. Łączą się z kawiarnią, to ja znajduję się w nich. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
725:Don’t be afraid; I’ll keep looking at you for ever and ever, without a flutter of my eyelids, and you’ll live in my gaze like a mote in a sunbeam. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
726:This instant which I cannot leave, which locks me in and limits me on every side, this instant I am made of will be no more than a confused dream. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
727:It's just what people do when they're getting old, when they're sick of themselves and their life; they think of money and take care of themselves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
728:To love is never just to love since it is also to will to love, and ... to love in spite of oneself, to allow oneself to be overcome by one's love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
729:You see, I'm fond of teasing, it's
a second nature with me—and I'm used to teasing myself. Plaguing myself, if you prefer; I don't tease nicely. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
730:Anything, anything would be better than this agony of mind, this creeping pain that gnaws and fumbles and caresses one and never hurts quite enough. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
731:Hiçbir şey değişmedi, ama yine de her şey başka bir biçimde var olup gidiyor. Anlatamıyorum. Bulantıya benziyor bu, ama aynı zamanda onun tam tersi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
732:I get up. I move through this pale light; I see it change beneath my hands and on the sleeves of my coat: I cannot describe how much it disgusts me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
733:Mientras que tú piensas: agua pura, querida agua pura, solo estaré a medias en este lugar, solo a medias seré culpable, seré agua pura allí contigo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
734:So much torture, bloodshed, deceit. You cannot make your young people practice torture twenty-four hours a day and not expect to pay a price for it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
735:There are two ways of destroying a people. Either condemn them en bloc or force them to repudiate the leaders they adopted. The second is the worse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
736:I'm going to sleep with my eyes open; already the face is growing larger; growing in the mirror; it is an immense, pale halo slipping in the light... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
737:Thus we have neither behind us, nor before us in a luminous realm of values, any means of justification or excuse. We are left alone, without excuse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
738:[...] cette liberté, je l'ai cherchée bien loin ; elle était si proche que je ne pouvais la voir, que je ne peux pas la toucher, elle n'était que moi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
739:I discovered suddenly that alienation, exploitation of man by man, under-nourishment, relegated to the background metaphysical evil which is a luxury. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
740:If I relegate impossible Salvation to the prop room, what remains? A whole man, composed of all men and as good as all of them and no better than any. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
741:incident. “Nothing new.” I admire the way we can lie, putting reason on our side. Evidently, nothing new has happened, if you care to put it that way: ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
742:I suppose it is out of laziness that the world is the same day after day. Today it seemed to want to change. And then anything, anything could happen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
743:Jean-Paul Sartre, the existentialist philosopher who celebrated the anguish of decision as a hallmark of responsibility, has no place in Silicon Valley. ~ Evgeny Morozov, #NFDB
744:Some 1,300 years later, the French existentialist Jean-Paul Sartre metaphorically spat on the notion of communal bliss by declaring, “Hell is other people. ~ Eric Weiner, #NFDB
745:Three o'clock. Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do. A peculiar moment in the afternoon. Today it is intolerable. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
746:Güneşin acımasız bir yargı gibi yaratıkların üzerine saçtığı bu soğuk aydınlıklar, gözlerimden içime akıyor; yoksullaştırıcı bir ışıkla aydınlanıyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
747:Unity may be achieved under a strong man, but the time comes when a people must stop looking for a savior and take responsibility for their own future. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
748:As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
749:Des fois, je donnerais ma main à couper pour devenir tout de suite un homme et d'autres fois il me semble que je ne voudrais pas survivre à ma jeunesse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
750:[E]very man ought to say to himself, "Am I really the kind of man who has the right to act in such a way that humanity might guide itself by my actions? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
751:I am no longer sure of anything. If I satiate my desires, I sin but I deliver myself from them; if I refuse to satisfy them, they infect the whole soul. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
752:Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does.
It is up to you to give [life] a meaning. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
753:- Un hombre que está solo es hermoso.
- Tan hermoso que enseguida da ganas de hacerle compañía. Y desde entonces deja de estar solo: así es el mundo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
754:I exist because I think … and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment–it's frightful–if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
755:I'm not obstinate, I'm highly strung: I don't know how to let myself go. I must always think of what is happening to me - it's a form of self-protection. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
756:It is therefore senseless to think of complaining since nothing foreign has decided what we feel, what we live, or what we are.
~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Being and Nothingness,#NFDB
757:I want to leave, go to some place where I will be really in my own niche, where I will fit in. . . . But my place is nowhere; I am unwanted, de trop. The ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
758:man being condemned to be free carries the weight of the whole world on his shoulders; he is responsible for the world and for himself as a way of being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
759:Moi, je ne tiens pas les rancunes et j'avoue tout, complaisamment : pour l'autocritique, je suis doué, à la condition qu'on ne prétende pas me l'imposer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
760:I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
761:I consider Les Nourritures Terrestres as a frightening book: "Look for God in no other place than everywhere." Go and tell that to a workman, an engineer! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
762:J'ai envie de partir, de m'en aller quelque part où je serais vraiment à ma place, où je m'emboîterais... Mais ma place n'est nulle part; je suis de trop. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
763:Não nos mostra ele que o "costume" e o "divertimento" mascaram ao homem "o seu nada, o seu abandono, a sua insuficiência, a sua impotência e o seu vazio"? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
764:Nothingness stands at the origin of negative judgment because it is itself negation. It founds the negation as an act because it is the negation of being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
765:Some men are born committed to action: they do not have a choice, they have been thrown on a path, at the end of that path, an act awaits them, their act. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
766:But faced with this great wrinkled paw, neither ignorance nor knowledge was important: the world of explanations and reasons is not the world of existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
767:...his judgment went through me like a sword and questioned my very right to exist. And it was true, I had always realized it; I hadn't the right to exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
768:In a word, man must create his own essence: it is in throwing himself into the world, suffering there, struggling there, that he gradually defines himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
769:Llegaba a aceptar que Mateo no fuera más que una etapa de su vida- y esto era ya bastante duro-pero no podía soportar ser él una etapa en la vida de Mateo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
770:Time gnaws and wears away; it separates; it flies. And by virtue of separation--by separating man from his pain or from the object of his pain--time cures. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
771:...we are not on the side of history made. We were, as I have said, situated in such a way that every lived minute seemed to us like something irreducible. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
772:Everywhere, now, there are objects like this glass of beer on the table there. When I see it, I feel like saying: “Enough.” I realize quite well that I have ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
773:Ich najlepsze historie opowiadają o nierozważnych, o oryginałach, którzy zostali
ukarani. No bo tak: tak właśnie jest i nikt nie po wie, że jest inaczej. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
774:On meurt toujours trop tôt ― ou trop tard. Et cependant la vie est là, terminée: le trait est tiré, il faut faire la somme. Tu n'es rien d'autre que ta vie. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
775:If a Jew is fascinated by Christians it is not because of their virtues, which he values little, but because they represent anonymity, humanity without race. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
776:I’ve dropped out of their hearts like a little sparrow fallen from its nest. So gather me up, dear, fold me to your heart – and you’ll see how nice I can be. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
777:One always dies too soon or too late. And yet, life is there, finished: the line is drawn, and it must all be added up. You are nothing other than your life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
778:Hayatımın anlarının, hatırlanan bir hayatın anları gibi birbirini izlemesini istemiştim. Zamanı kuyruğundan yakalamaya kalkışmanın böyle bir önemi olabilirdi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
779:And naturally, everything they tell about in books can happen in real life, but not in the same way. It is to this way of happening
that I clung so tightly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
780:Everything is gratuitous, this garden, this city and myself. When you suddenly realize it, it makes you feel sick and everything begins to drift…that’s nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
781:« L’homme sensible moderne » ne souffre pas pour tel ou tel motif particulier, mais, en général, parce que rien de cette terre ne saurait contenter ses désirs. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
782:People who live in society have learnt how to see themselves, in mirrors, as they appear to their friends. I have no friends: is that why my flesh is so naked? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
783:The Nausea has not left me and I don't believe it will leave me so soon; but I no longer have to bear it, it is no longer an illness or a passing fit: it is I. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
784:Tiho sam išao ka svom kraju... siguran da će poslednji otkucaj mog srca biti utisnut na poslednjoj stranici mog rada i da će smrt uzeti samo već mrtvog čoveka. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
785:If you want to deserve Hell, you need only stay in bed. The world is iniquity; if you accept it, you are an accomplice, if you change it you are an executioner. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
786:I have no taste for work any longer, I can do nothing more except wait for night.
530: Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
787:La mayor parte del tiempo, al no unirse a palabras, mis pensamientos quedan en la niebla. Dibujan formas claras y agradables, se disipan; en seguida las olvido. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
788:Nothing looked real; I felt surrounded by cardboard scenery which could suddenly be removed.
The world was waiting, holding its breath, making itself small - ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
789:Once we know and are aware, we are responsible for our action and our inaction. We can do something about it or ignore it. Either way, we are still responsible. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
790:The voice is silent. The disc scrapes a little, then stops. Delivered from a troublesome dream, the café ruminates, chews the cud over the pleasure of existing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
791:Cuando se hayan acostado juntos, habrá que buscar otra cosa para ocultar el enorme absurdo de la existencia. Con todo ..., ¿es absolutamente necesario engañarse? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
792:A la vérité, il forçait un peu sur le sublime : c'était un homme du XIXe siècle qui se prenait, comme tant d'autres, comme Victor Hugo lui-même, pour Victor Hugo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
793:A Soviet citizen, an official writer, once said to me: "The day when Communism (that is, well-being for everyone) reigns, man's tragedy will begin: his finitude." ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
794:Farewell, beautiful
lilies, elegant in your painted little sanctuaries, good-bye, lovely lilies, our pride and reason for
existing, good-bye you bastards! ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
795:I do not give a damn about the dead. They died for the [Communist] Party and the Party can decide what it wants. I practice a live man's politics, for the living. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
796:It is not a matter of indifference whether we like oysters or clams, snails or shrimp, if only we know how to unravel the existential significance of these foods. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
797:The individual's duty is to do what he wants to do, to think whatever he likes, to be accountable to no one but himself, to challenge every idea and every person. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
798:There are two types of poor people, those who are poor together and those who are poor alone. The first are the true poor, the others are rich people out of luck. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
799:U mojim rukama, na primer, ima nečeg novog, izvestan način na koji uzimam lulu ili viljušku. Ili pak sad viljuška ima izvestan način na koji se da uzeti, ne znam. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
800:A maioria das vezes, por não se ligarem a palavras, meus pensamentos permanecem nebulosos. Desenham formas vagas e agradáveis, submergem: esqueço-os imediatamente. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
801:Don't you ever get taken that way? When I can't see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn't help much. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
802:For forty years I was conscripted by the absolute, the neurosis. The absolute is gone. There remain countless tasks among which literature is in no way privileged. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
803:Total war is no longer war waged by all members of one national community against all those of another. It is total... because it may well involve the whole world. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
804:Everything is gratuitous, this garden, this city and myself. When you suddenly realize it, it makes you feel sick and everything begins to drift . . . that's nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
805:The thing is that I rarely think; a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
806:After all, she is lucky. I have been much too calm these past three years. I can receive nothing more from these tragic solitudes than a little empty purity. I leave. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
807:In a country lacking leaders, in Africa, for instance, how could a native educated in Europe refuse to become a professor, even at the price of his literary vocation? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
808:I stop suddenly: there is a flaw, I have seen a word pierce through the web of sensations. I suppose that this word will soon take the place of several images I love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
809:She is wearing her black dress. She isn’t crying, but she never did cry, anyhow. It’s a bright sunny day and she’s like a black shadow creeping down the empty street. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
810:There is a universe behind and before him. And the day is approaching when closing the last book on the last shelf on the far left; he will say to himself, "now what? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
811:The sun was clear and diaphanous like white win. Its light barely touched the moving figures, gave them no shadow, no relief: faces and hands made spots of pale gold. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
812:Es el reflejo de mi rostro. A menudo en estos días perdidos, me quedo contemplándolo. No comprendo nada de este rostro. Los de los demás tienen un sentido. El mío, no. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
813:If values are vague, and if they are always too broad for the concrete and specific case that we are considering, the only thing left for us is to trust our instincts. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
814:in Marommes.” And in reality you have started at the end. It was there, invisible and present, it is the one which gives to words the pomp and value of a beginning. “I ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
815:Yani sen...bütün o... anlık trajediler, içinde maskelerin, şalların, mobilyaların ve benim birer küçük rol, senin de büyük bir rol oynadığın trajediler bitti mi artık? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
816:Ben onun gibi umutsuz değilim, çünkü beklediğim fazla bir şey yok. Ben daha çok...bana verilmiş, hem de bir hiç için verilmiş olan hayat karşısında şaşırmış durumdayım. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
817:El hombre no es nada más que su proyecto, no existe más que en la medida en que se realiza, no es, por lo tanto, más que el conjunto de sus actos, nada más que su vida. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
818:I am not fond of the word psychological.
There is no such thing as the psychological.
Let us say that one can improve the biography of
the person.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE ~ R D Laing,#NFDB
819:Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. It is up to you to give [life] a meaning.” – Jean-Paul Sartre ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
820:The Nausea is not inside me: I feel it out there in the wall, in the suspenders, everywhere around me. It makes itself one with the café, I am the one who is within it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
821:What do we mean by saying that existence precedes essence? We mean that man first of all exists, encounters himself, surges up in the world-and defines himself afterward. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
822:idea that you cannot control what happens to you, but you can control how you feel about it. Or, as Jean-Paul Sartre put it, “Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you. ~ Eula Biss, #NFDB
823:I was nowhere, I was floating. I was not surprised, I knew it was the World, the naked World suddenly revealing itself, and I choked with rage at this gross, absurd being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
824:The truth is that I can’t put down my pen: I think I’m going to have the Nausea and I feel as though I’m delaying it while writing. So I write whatever comes into my mind. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
825:This is time, time laid bare, coming slowly
into existence, keeping us waiting, and when it does come making us sick because we realise it's been there for a long time. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
826:Me dan ganas de marcharme, de irme a cualquier parte donde estuviera realmente en mi lugar, donde me encerraría... Pero mi lugar no se halla en ninguna parte; estoy de más. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
827:she has suddenly emptied herself of me, and all other consciousness in the world has also emptied itself of me. It seems funny. Yet I know that I exist, that I am here. Now ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
828:The intellectuel engagé had a duty to dedicate himself to revolutionary activity, to question established orthodoxies, and to champion the interests of all oppressed groups ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
829:Êtes-vous si fort dans l'art de la dispute? demanda le curé, vous l'emportez sur les nôtres !" "Je n'ai pas disputé, répondit M. de Rollebon, je lui ai fait peur de l'enfer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
830:I liked this shop very much, it has a cynical and obstinate look, it insolently recalled the rights of dirt and vermin, only two paces from the most costly church in France. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
831:Alors c'est ça l'enfer. Je ne l'aurais jamais cru… Vous vous rappelez : le souffre, le bûcher, le gril.. Ah quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer c'est les autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
832:First all men must be able to become men by the improvement of their conditions of existence, so that a universal morality can be created. If I begin by saying to them: "Thou ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
833:I had realized in the meantime that action too has its difficulties, and that one can also be led to it by neurosis. We are not saved by politics any more than by literature. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
834:Les grandes personnes, établies dans mon âme, montraient du doigt mon étoile; je ne la voyais pas mais je voyais le doigt, je croyais en elles qui prétendaient croire en moi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
835:Remember, Orestes: you were part of my herd, you grazed in the fields along with my sheep. Your liberty is nothing but a mange eating away at you, it is nothing but an exile. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
836:So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: Hell is other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
837:So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: hell is other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
838:A little more and I would have fallen into the mirror trap. I avoided it, but only to fall into the window trap: with nothing to do, my arms dangling, I go over to the window. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
839:As an intense, nicotine-stained, Jean-Paul Sartre sort of man, wasn't it simple logic to expect that he'd be limited to intense, nicotine-stained Jean-Paul Sartre sorts of Women? ~ Richard Yates, #NFDB
840:Así es el tiempo, el tiempo desnudo; viene lentamente a la existencia, se hace esperar y cuando llega uno siente asco porque cae en al cuenta de que hacía mucho que estaba ahí. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
841:Existo. Es algo tan dulce, tan dulce, tan lento. Y leve; como si se mantuviera solo en el aire. Se mueve. Por todas partes, roces que caen y se desvanecen. Muy suave, muy suave ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
842:Those who wants to be loved, must want the freedom of the other, because love emerges from it, if I subject it, it becomes an object, and from an object I can not receive love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
843:Así es el tiempo, el tiempo desnudo; viene lentamente a la existencia, se hace esperar y cuando llega uno siente asco porque cae en la cuenta de que hacía mucho que estaba allí. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
844:Giacometti knows that space is a cancer on being, and eats everything; to sculpt, for him, is to take the fat off space, he compresses space, so as to drain off its exteriority. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
845:She smiled and said with an ecstatic air: "It shines like a little diamond", "What does?" "This moment. It is round, it hangs in empty space like a little diamond; I am eternal. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
846:Algo comienza para terminar: la aventura no admite añadidos; sólo cobra sentido con su muerte. Hacia esta muerte, que acaso sea también la mía, me veo arrastrado irremisiblemente. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
847:Am vrut ca toate clipele vieții mele să se succeadă și să se orânduiască asemeni celor dintr-o viață de care-ți amintești. E ca și cum ai vrea să încerci a prinde timpul de coadă. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
848:Love was not something to be felt, not a particular emotion, nor yet a particular shade of feeling, it was much more like a lowering curse on the horizon, a precursor of disaster. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
849:Oppressed with countless little daily cares, he had waited... For an act. A free, considered act; that should pledge his whole life, and stand at the beginning of a new existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
850:De improviso se me aparece la verdad: este hombre morirá pronto. Seguramente lo sabe; basta con que se haya mirado en un espejo; cada día se parece un poco más al cadáver que será. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
851:Il n'y a pas d'autre univers qu'un univers humain, l'univers de la subjectivite humaine. There is no other universe except the human universe, the universe of human subjectivity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
852:La plupart du temps, faute de s'attacher à des mots, mes pensées restent des brouillards. Elles dessinent des formes vagues et plaisantes, s'engloutissent : aussitôt, je les oublie. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
853:Unë zotëroj vetëm trupin tim; një njeri krejt i vetmuar, që ka vetëm trupin e tij, nuk mund të fiksojë kujtimet; ato i kalojnë anash. Nuk duhet të ankohem: vetë doja të isha i lirë. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
854:We are possessed by the things we possess. When I like an object, I always give it to someone. It isn't generosity-it's only because I want others to be enslaved by objects, not me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
855:could we not conceive of a philosophy of existence linked, not solely to experiences of separation, forlornness, and profound melancholy, but also to feelings of hope and confidence? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
856:Everything in my past, in my training, everything that has been most essential in my activity up to now has made me above all a man who writes, and it is too late for that to change. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
857:He raised himself on his hands and looked at Irene's face: the nudity of that feminine body had risen into her face, the body had reabsorbed it, as nature reabsorbs forsaken gardens. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
858:I discovered in belles-lettres that the Giver can be transformed into his own Gift, that is, into a pure object. Chance had made me a man, generosity would make me a book. JEAN-PAUL SARTRE ~ Lewis Hyde, #NFDB
859:Man is nothing else but what he purposes, he exists only in so far as he realizes himself, he is therefore nothing else but the sum of his actions, nothing else but what his life is. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
860:Das Leben hat a priori keinen Sinn. Ehe Sie leben, ist das Leben nichts; es liegt bei Ihnen, ihm einen Sinn zu verleihen, und der Wert ist nichts anderes als der Sinn, den Sie wählen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
861:She smiled and said with an ecstatic air: "It shines like a little diamond",
"What does?"
"This moment. It is round, it hangs in empty space like a little diamond; I am eternal. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
862:Wszyscy czekali łakomie na godzinę słodkich ciemności, odprężenia,
zapomnienia, godzinę, w czasie której ekran, lśniący jak biały kamień w wodzie, będzie
mówił i marzył za nich. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
863:You know how much I admire Che Guevara. In fact, I believe that the man was not only an intellectual but also the most complete human being of our age: as a fighter and as a man, as a ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
864:Le vieillard: Maintenant... vous voyez aussi les morts.
Pierre: Comment les distingue-t-on des vivants?
Le vieillard: C'est bien simple: les vivants, eux, sonts toujours pressés. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
865:But I don't see anything anymore: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
866:C'est ça le temps, le temps tout nu, ça vient lentement à l'existence, ça se fait attendre et quand ça vient, on est écoeuré parce qu'on s'aperçoit que c'était déjà là depuis longtemps. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
867:Man is always separated from what he is by all the breadth of the being which he is not. He makes himself known to himself from the other side of the world and he looks from the horizon ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
868:Words There is no good father, that's the rule. Don't lay the blame on men but on the bond of paternity, which is rotten. To beget children, nothing better; to have them, what iniquity! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
869:At an age when most children are playing hopscotch or with their dolls,you, poor child, who had no friends or toys, you toyed with dreams of murder, because that is a game to play alone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
870:But I can't see anything any more: however much I search the past I can only retrieve scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, nor whether they are remembered or invented. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
871:Le génie n'est qu'un prêt: il faut le mériter par de grandes souffrances, par des épreuves modestement, fermement traversées; on finit par entendre des voix et l'on écrit sous la dictée. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
872:Cada instante aparece para traer los siguientes. Me aferro a cada instante con toda el alma; sé que es único, irremplazable, y sin embargo no movería un dedo para impedir su aniquilación. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
873:Existence everywhere, to infinity, superfluous, always and everywhere; existence - which is never limited by anything but existence...existence is a repletion which man can never abandon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
874:Generally speaking there is no irreducible taste or inclination. They all represent a certain appropriative choice of being. It is up to existential psychoanalysis to compare and classify ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
875:Not only is man what he conceives himself to be, but he is also only what he wills himself to be after this thrust toward existence. Man is nothing else but what he makes of himself. Such ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
876:The aim of language...is to communicate...to impart to others the results one has obtained...As I talk, I reveal the situation...I reveal it to myself and to others in order to change it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
877:This sun and blue sky were only a snare. This is the hundredth time I've let myself be caught. My memories are like coins in the devil's purse: when you open it you find only dead leaves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
878:To choose this or that is to affirm at the same time the value of what we choose, because we can never choose evil. We always choose the good, and nothing can be good for us without being ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
879:And just what is Antoine Roquentin? An abstraction. A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness. Antoine Roquentin . . . and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out. Lucid, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
880:Be self-indulgent, and those who are also self-indulgent will like you. Tear your neighbor to pieces, and the other neighbors will laugh. But if you beat your soul, all souls will cry out. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
881:Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up; I forget them almost immediately. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
882:Yo no tengo tribulaciones, dispongo de dinero como un rentista, no tengo jefe, ni mujer, ni hijos; existo, eso es todo. Y esta tribulación es tan vaga, tan metafísica, que me da vergüenza. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
883:And you know what wickedness is, and shame, and fear. There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
884:Antes de alguém viver, a vida, em si mesma, não é nada; é quem é a vive que deve dar-lhe um sentido; e o valor nada mais que constatar-se, assim, que é possível criar uma comunidade humana. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
885:Her şey dopdolu, varoluş her yerde yoğun, ağır ve tatlı. Ama bütün bu tatlılığın ardında, ele geçmez, yakın ama yine de uzak, genç, acımasız ve durgun şu... Evet, şu eğilip bükülmezlik var. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
886:In order to make myself recognized by the Other, I must risk my own life. To risk one's life, in fact, is to reveal oneself as not-bound to the objective form or to any determined existence ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
887:J’existe. C’est doux, si doux, si lent. Et léger: on dirait que ça tient en l’air tout seul. Ça remue. Ce sont des effleurements partout qui fondent et s’évanouissent. Tout doux, tout doux. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
888:Most of the time, because of their failure to fasten on to words, my thoughts remain misty and nebulous. They assume vague, amusing shapes and are then swallowed up: I promptly forget them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
889:Perhaps it was a passing moment of madness after all. There is no trace of it any more. My odd feelings of the other week seem to me quite ridiculous today: I can no longer enter into them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
890:What I regretted in La Nausee was not to have put myself completely into the thing. I remained outside my hero's disease, protected by my neurosis which, through writing, gave me happiness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
891:Crazy as a loon"—and Doctor Roge vaguely recalls other crazy loons, not remembering any one of them in particular. Now, nothing M. Achille can do will surprise us: because he's a crazy loon! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
892:I feel there are no more perfect moments. I feel it in my legs when I walk. I feel it all the time, even when I sleep. I can’t forget it. I am dazzled, uncomfortable, I can’t get used to it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
893:Nausea’s very subject is the randomness, the contingency, the superfluity, of the world; where better to begin than with Roquentin’s own randomness, his contingency as an invented character? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
894:Listen to me: a family man is never a real family man. An assassin is never entirely assassin. They play a role, you understand. While a dead man, he is really dead. To be or not to be, right? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
895:Omenirea e plină doar de ea însăși, nimeni nu-i lipsește și nu așteaptă pe nimeni. Va continua să nu ducă nicăieri și aceiași oameni își vor pune aceleași întrebări și vor rata aceleași vieți. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
896:One always dies too soon - or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are - your life, and nothing else. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
897:One always dies too soon — or too late. And yet one’s whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are — your life, and nothing else. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
898:It answers the question that was tormenting you: my love, you are not 'one thing in my life' - not even the most important - because my life no longer belongs to me because...you are always me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
899:The four cafés on the Boulevard Victor-Noir, shining in the night, side by side, and which are much more than café--aquariums, ships, stars or great white eyes--have lost their ambiguous charm. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
900:The writer is committed when he plunges to the very depths of himself with the intent to disclose, not his individuality, but his person in the complex society that conditions and supports him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
901:İnsanlar hikâyecilikten kurtulamaz, kendi hikâyeleri ve başkalarının hikâyeleri arasında yaşar. Başına gelen her şeyi hikâyeler içinden görür. Hayatını, sanki anlatıyormuş gibi yaşamaya çalışır. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
902:Düşünüyorum da,'' diyorum gülerek. ''Ne düşünüyordum biliyor muusunuz? Burada bir sürü insanız, bedensel varlığımızı korumak için yiyip içiyoruz, ama var olmamış için hiçbir şey hiçbir neden yok. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
903:God is dead. Let us not understand by this that he does not exist or even that he no longer exists. He is dead. He spoke to us and is silent. We no longer have anything but his cadaver. Perhaps he ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
904:I committed the first crime by creating men as mortals. After that, what more could you do, you the murderers? Come on; they already had death in them: at most you simply hastened things a little. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
905:Man is condemned to be free. Condemned because he did not create himself, yet is nevertheless at liberty, and from the moment he is thrown into this world he is responsible for everything he does. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
906:In any case, if you ever leave me with a handsome man, do not tell me that you trust me because, let me warn you: that is not what will prevent me from deceiving you, if I want to. On the contrary. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
907:When you want to understand something you stand in front of it, alone, without help: all the past in the world is of no use. Then it disappears and what you wanted to understand disappears with it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
908:[C]es émotions inoffensives je ne les ai jamais refusées; au contraire. Pour les ressentir il suffit d'être un tout petit peu seul, juste assez pour se débarrasser au bon moment de la vraisemblance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
909:My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think...and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment- it's frightful -if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
910:Perhaps it’s inevitable; perhaps one has to choose between being nothing at all, or impersonating what one is. That would be terrible,’ he said to himself: ‘it would mean that we were duped by nature. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
911:Aku suka menyadari betapa kerasnya buku bertahan, tidak pernah mau takluk begitu saja padaku; aku jadi terpedaya, capai, tetapi aku amat menikmati ambiguitas posisiku: "mengerti tetapi tidak mengerti". ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
912:..he is betrayed by the cynical sparkle of her eyes, by her sophisticated look. Real ladies do not know the price of things, they like adorable follies; their eyes are like beautiful, hothouse flowers. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
913:I am. I am, I exist, I think, therefore I am; I am because I think, why do I think? I don't want to think any more, I am because I think that I don't want to be, I think that I . . . because . . . ugh! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
914:Lord, you have cursed Cain and Cain’s children: thy will be done. You have allowed men’s hearts to be corrupted, that their intentions be rotten, that their actions putrefy and stink: thy will be done. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
915:I have nothing but contempt for you idiotic chosen ones who have the heart to rejoice when there are the damned in Hell and the poor on earth; as for me, I am on the side of men and I will not leave it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
916:I realized that there was no half-way house between non-existence and this flaunting abundance. If you existed, you had to exist all the way, as far as mouldiness, bloatedness, obscenity were concerned. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
917:In the distance.
Above my head; above my head; and this instant which I cannot leave, which locks me in and
limits me on every side, this instant I am made of will be no more than a confused dream. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
918:[There is] a kind of overflowing in the world of 'things': there is, at every moment, always infinitely more than we can see; to exhaust the richness of my current perception would take an infinite time. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
919:Amuse yourself, torment your desires. Drink when you're thirsty -- that would be very much too simple! If you didn't harbour a temptation eternally in your soul, you'd run the risk of forgetting yourself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
920:Daha çok, aydının fazladan bir adam, orta sınıfların başarısız bir ürünü, kusurları dolayısıyla ayrıcalıksız sınıfların kıyısında yaşayan ve onlara hiçbir zaman katılamayan biri olduğunu söyleyemez miyiz? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
921:Je n'ai jamais gratté la terre ni quêté des nids, je n'ai pas herborisé ni lancé des pierres aux oiseaux. Mais les livres ont été mes oiseaux et mes nids, mes bêtes domestiques, mon étable et ma campagne. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
922:Soy feliz; este frío es tan puro, tan pura la noche; ¿no soy yo mismo una onda de aire helado? No tener ni sangre, ni linfa, ni carne. Deslizarse por este largo canal hacia aquella palidez. Ser sólo frío. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
923:...they dam up the future. As long as you stay between these walls, whatever happens must happen to the right or the left of the stove...Thus these objects serve at least to fix the limits of probability. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
924:I haven't any troubles, I have some money like a gentleman of leisure, no boss, no wife, no children; I exist, that's all. And that particular trouble is so vague, so metaphysical, that I am ashamed of it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
925:Every age has its own poetry; in every age the circumstances of history choose a nation, a race, a class to take up the torch by creating situations that can be expressed or transcended only through poetry. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
926:From these few observations we can already conclude that the real is never beautiful. Beauty is a value applicable only to the imaginary and which means the negation of the world in its essential structure. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
927:Naturally, in the course of my life I have made lots of mistakes, large and small, for one reason or another, but at the heart of it all, every time I made a mistake it was because I was not radical enough. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
928:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that's all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
929:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
930:The public, too, has to make an effort in order to understand the writer who, though he renounce complacent obscurity, cannot always express his new-hidden thoughts lucidly and according to accepted models. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
931:The recruit who reports for active duty at the beginning of the war can in some instances be afraid of death, but more often he is 'afraid of being afraid'; that is, he is filled with anguish before himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
932:A man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
933:If I were ever to go on a trip, I think I should make written notes of the slightest traits of my character before leaving, so that when I returned I would be able to compare what I was and what I had become. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
934:Wives and mothers of the disappeared, when they were present at the arrest, would swear that the missing had been taken away by very polite Germans, similar to those who asked us for directions in the street. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
935:Existence is not something which lets itself be thought of form a distance; it must invade you suddenly, master you, weigh heavily on your heart like a great motionless beast - or else there is nothing at all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
936:Existence is not something which lets itself be thought of from a distance; it must invade you suddenly, master you, weigh heavily on your heart like a great motionless beast - or else there is nothing at all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
937:we are abandoned in the world ... in the sense that we find ourselves suddenly alone and without help. Man is condemned to be free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
938:Abjection is a methodological conversion, like Cartesian doubt and Husserlian epoche: it establishes the world as a closed system which consciousness regards from without, in the manner of divine understanding. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
939:At times discreetly, at times disgustingly, I yielded to the most fatal temptation whenever I could no longer bear it: as a result of impatience, Orpheus lost Eurydice; as a result of impatience, I lost myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
940:Ha! to forget. How childish! I feel you in my bones. Your silence screams in my ears. You may nail your mouth shut, you may cut out your tongue, can you keep yourself from existing? Will you stop your thoughts. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
941:Perception is naturally surpassed toward action; better yet, it can be revealed only in and through projects of action. The world is revealed as an "always future hollow", for we are always future to ourselves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
942:Torture is senseless violence, born in fear... torture costs human lives but does not save them. We would almost be too lucky if these crimes were the work of savages: the truth is that torture makes torturers. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
943:If you die, I will lie down beside you and I will stay there until the end, without eating or drinking, you will rot in my arms and I will love you as carcass: for you love nothing if you do not love everything. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
944:I must be without remorse or regrets as I am without excuse; for from the instant of my upsurge into being, I carry the weight of the world by myself alone without anything or any person being able to lighten it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
945:That's what I must avoid: I mustn't put strangeness where there's nothing. I think that is the danger of keeping a diary: you exaggerate everything, you are on the look-out, and you continually stretch the truth. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
946:It is the good children, Madame, who make the most terrible revolutionaries. They say nothing, they do not hide under the table, they eat only one sweet at a time, but later on, they make Society pay dearly for it! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
947:The English and the French have not a single memory in common. Everything that London suffered with pride, Paris suffered in shame and despair. It is important for us to learn to speak of ourselves without emotion, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
948:I enjoy feeling fastidious and aloof. I enjoy saying no, always no, and I should be afraid of any attempt to construct a finally habitable world, because I should merely have to say - Yes; and act like other people. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
949:I felt myself in a solitude so frightful that I contemplated suicide. What held me back was the idea that no one, absolutely no one, would be moved by my death, that I would be even more alone in death than in life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
950:şu son haftalar içinde bir değişiklik ortaya çıktı. ama nerede? hiçbir şeye bağlanılmayan soyut bir değişme bu. değişen ben miyim? ben değilsem şu oda, şu kent, şu doğa; seçmek gerek.
değişen benim sanıyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
951:Therefore, in the nature of this will for freedom, which freedom itself implies, I may pass judgement on those who seek to hide from themselves the complete arbitrariness and the complete freedom of their existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
952:There is no reality except in action. Man is nothing else than his plan; he exists only to the extent that he fulfills himself; he is therefore nothing else than the ensemble of his acts, nothing else than his life. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
953:Could hell be described as too much of anything without a break? Are variety,
moderation and balance instruments we use to keep us from boiling in any inferno of excess,' whether it be cheesecake or ravenous sex? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
954:Et voilà, mon passé n’est plus qu’un trou énorme. Mon présent: cette bonne au corsage noir qui rêve près du comptoir, ce petit bonhomme. Tout ce que je sais de ma vie, il me semble que je l’ai appris dans des livres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
955:Generosity is nothing else than a craze to possess. All which I abandon, all which I give, I enjoy in a higher manner through the fact that I give it away. To give is to enjoy possessively the object which one gives. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
956:What do you want to do with the [Communist] Party? A racing stable? What good is it to sharpen a knife every day if you never useit for slicing? A party is never more than a means. There is only one objective: power. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
957:Dans mes mains, par exemple, il y a quelque chose de neuf, une certaine façon de prendre ma pipe ou ma fourchette. Ou bien c'est la fourchette qui a, maintenant, une certaine façon de se faire prendre, je ne sais pas. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
958:Roquentin is visited by a deeper, more philosophical ailment: he falls into bouts of what he calls his “Nausea.” These are episodes in which, afflicted by his sense that there is “absolutely no more reason for living, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
959:Roquentin wonders if he could do the same as the man who wrote the tune. Not in music, but in the realm of art. Not a history book, because that is about what has existed, and existence is pointless, is not necessary. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
960:What I ask of [the writer] is not to ignore the reality and the fundamental problems that exist. The world's hunger, the atomic threat, the alienation of man, I am astonished that they do not color all our literature. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
961:With despair, true optimism begins: the optimism of the man who expects nothing, who knows he has no rights and nothing coming to him, who rejoices in counting on himself alone and in acting alone for the good of all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
962:But the end is there, transforming everything. For us, the man is already the hero of the story. His moroseness, his money troubles are much more precious than ours, they are all gilded by the light of future passions. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
963:For the artist, the color, the bouquet, the tinkling of the spoon on the saucer, are things in the highest degree. He stops at the quality of the sound or the form. He returns to it constantly and is enchanted with it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
964:Though impervious to the sacred, I loved magic. The cinema was a suspect appearance that I loved perversely for what it still lacked. That streaming was everything, it was nothing, it was everything reduced to nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
965:I couldn’t understand why I was in Indo-China. What was I doing there? Why was I talking to these people? Why was I dressed so oddly? My passion was dead. For years it had rolled over and submerged me; now I felt empty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
966:I maintain that inversion is the effect of neither a prenatal choice nor an endocrinal malformation nor even the passive and determined result of complexes. It is an outlet that a child discovers when he is suffocating. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
967:You see a woman, you think that one day she'll be old, only you don't see her grow old. But there are moments when you think you see her grow old and feel yourself growing old with her: this is the feeling of adventure. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
968:Could hell be described as too much of anything without a break? Are variety,
moderation and balance instruments we use to keep us from boiling in any inferno of
excess,' whether it be cheesecake or ravenous sex? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
969:It's quite an undertaking to start loving somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment right at the start where you have to jump across an abyss: if you think about it you don't do it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
970:INEZ: What's the matter?
ESTELLE: I feel so queer. Don't you ever get taken that way? When I can't see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn't help much. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
971:So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the "burning marl." Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
972:I've lived the life of a man without teeth, he thought about it. A life of a man without teeth. I've never bitten, I've been waiting, keeping myself for later - and now I've just ascertained that I don't have teeth anymore. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
973:We play the part of heroes because we're cowards, the part of saints because we're wicked: we play the killer's role because we're dying to murder our fellow: we play at being because we are liars from the moment we're born ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
974:It’s the well-behaved children that make the most formidable revolutionaries. They don’t say a word, they don’t hide under the table, they eat only one piece of chocolate at a time. But later on, they make society pay dearly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
975:We will not go to Heaven,Goetz, and even if we both entered it, we would not have eyes to see each other, nor hands to touch each other. Up there, God gets all the attention.... We can only love on this earth and against God. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
976:Everything is silent again: but it isn't the same silence. It's raining: tapping lightly against the frosted glass windows; if there are any more masked children in the street, the rain is going to spoil their cardboard masks. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
977:Mizantropul este om: e absolut necesar ca umanistul sa fie intr-o oarecare masura mizantrop.Dar e un mizantrop stiintific, care a stiut sa-si dozeze ura, care incepe prin a-i uri pe oameni pentru a-i putea iubi mai bine, apoi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
978:all of us abandon ourselves to existence, because we were among
ourselves, only among ourselves, it has taken us unawares, in the disorder, the day to day drift: I am
ashamed for myself and for what exists in front of it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
979:everything I like, on the rust of the construction girders, on the rotten boards of the fence, a miserly, uncertain light falls, like the look you give, after a sleepless night, on decisions made with enthusiasm the day before, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
980:What men have in common is not a "nature" but a condition, that is, an ensemble of limits and restrictions: the inevitability of death, the necessity of working for a living, of living in a world already inhabited by other men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
981:Your scare me rather. My reflection in the glass never did that; of course, I knew it so well. Like something I had tamed...I'm going to smile, and my smile will sink down into your pupils, and heaven knows what it will become. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
982:All was fullness and all was active, there was no weakness in time, all, even the least perceptible stirring, was made of existence. And all these existents which bustled about this tree came from nowhere and were going nowhere. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
983:But what a poor lie: no one has any rights; they are entirely free, like other men, they cannot succeed in not feeling superfluous. And in themselves, secretly, they are superfluous, that is to say, amorphous, vague, and sad. How ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
984:Either the USSR was not the country of socialism, in which case socialism didn't exist anywhere and doubtless, wasn't possible: or else, socialism was that, this abominable monster, this police state, the power of beasts of prey. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
985:You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
986:Din clipa în care libertatea a făcut explozie în sufletul unui om, zeii nu mai pot face nimic împotriva lui. Asta-i o treabă omenească, şi numai ceilalţi oameni - numai ei - au căderea să-l lase în libertate sau să-l strîngâ de gît. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
987:You don't put your past in your pocket; you have to have a house. I have only my body: a man entirely alone, with his lonely body, cannot indulge in memories; they pass through him. I shouldn't complain: all I wanted was to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
988:I do not feel that I am the product of chance, a speck of dust in the universe, but someone who was expected, prepared, prefigured. In short, a being whom only a Creator could put here; and this idea of a creating hand refers to God. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
989:Love or hatred calls for self-surrender. He cuts a fine figure, the warm-blooded, prosperous man, solidly entrenched in his well-being, who one fine day surrenders all to love—or to hatred; himself, his house, his land, his memories. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
990:Me levanté, salí. Al llegar a la verja, me volví. Entonces el jardín me sonrió. Me apoyé en la verja y miré largo rato. La sonrisa de los árboles, de macizo de laurel quería decir algo; aquél era el verdadero secreto de la existencia. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
991:Sa do të doja të përhumbesha, të harrohesha, të flija. Por, nuk mundem, më merret fryma: ekzistenca më depërton nga të gjitha anët, nga sytë nga hunda, nga goja…
Dhe në një çast, në një çast të vetëm, perdja griset, kuptova, pashë. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
992:And yet I am troubled; it would take so little to make the record stop: a broken spring, the whim of Cousin Adolphe. How strange it is, how moving, that this hardness should be so fragile. Nothing can interrupt it yet all can break it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
993:I clung to nothing, in a way I was calm. But it was a horrible calm—because of my body; my body, I saw with its eyes, I heard with its ears, but it was no longer me; it sweated and trembled by itself and I didn’t recognize it any more. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
994:Others quite new when covered with ice, all white, all throbbing, are like swans about to fly, but the earth has already caught them from below. They twist and tear themselves from the mud, only to be flattened out a little further on. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
995:Quizá no haya nada en el mundo que me interese tanto como este sentimiento de aventura. Pero viene cuando quiere; y se va tan rápido, que me deja agotado. ¿Me hará estas breves visitas irónicas para demostrarme que he frustado mi vida? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
996:This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his life as if he were recounting it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
997:A stranger to the needs, hopes, and pleasures of the species, I squandered myself coldly in order to charm it. It was my audience; I was separated, from it by footlights that forced me into a proud exile which quickly turned to anguish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
998:I felt that the success of the enterprise was in my hands: the moment had an obscure meaning which had to be trimmed and perfected; certain motions had to be made, certain words spoken: I staggered under the weight of my responsibility. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
999:The Myth of Sisyphus, that it was not acceptable for the absurd person to commit suicide, but that to live, and live rebelliously, “with my revolt, my freedom, and my passion,” was the best way of both acknowledging and rejecting death. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1000:How can you expect my character to be solidly real, to be anything other than obviously imaginary, when everything is contingent anyway? My Character has been deformed out of reality by his own nihilism, his own metaphysical nothingness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1001:I was not the one to invent lies: they were created in a society divided by class and each of us inherited lies when we were born. It is not by refusing to lie that we will abolish lies: it is by eradicating class by any means necessary. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1002:Pretutindeni aceleaşi strigăte de spaimă şi aceeaşi harababură, aceeaşi goană neagră şi greoaie pe străzile unde lumina îţi ia ochii, pfiu! Străzile astea pustii, aerul care tremură şi soarele ăsta... Există ceva mai sinistru ca soarele? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1003:Ben geçmişimi nerede saklayacağım? Geçmişinizi cebinizde saklayamazsınız. Onu koyacak bir eviniz olmalı. Gövdemden başka şeyim yok benim. Yapayalnız bir adam, salt gövdesiyle anıları durdurup saklayamaz. Anılar üzerinden geçip gider onun. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1004:I am alone in the midst of these happy, reasonable voices. All these creatures spend their time explaining, realizing happily that they agree with each other. In Heaven's name, why is it so important to think the same things all together. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1005:La pasividad de una cosa espacio temporal se constituye a partir de su relatividad existencial.Una existencia relativa no puede ser más que pasiva puesto que la menor actividad la liberaria de lo relativo y lo constituiría en lo absoluto. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1006:Let it crumble! Let the rocks revile me and flowers wilt at my coming. Your whole universe is not enough to prove me wrong. You are the king of gods, king of stones and stars, king of the waves of the sea. But you are not the king of man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1007:I sank down on the bench, stupefied, stunned by this profusion of beings without origin: everywhere blossomings, hatchings out, my ears buzzed with existence, my very flesh throbbed and opened, abandoned itself to the universal burgeoning. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1008:Lo que pasa es que rara vez pienso; entonces sin darme cuenta, se acumula en mí una multitud de pequeñas metamorfosis, y un buen día se produce una verdadera revolución. Es lo que ha dado a mi vida este aspecto desconcertante, incoherente. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1009:... Partiye girme kararını vermeden önce öyle korkunç bir yalnızlık duyuyordum ki, canıma kıymayı bile düşünmüştüm. Bu işten caymamın nedeni ölümümden kimsenin duygulanmayacağı, ölümde, hayatta olduğumdan daha yalnız olacağımı düşünmemdir. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1010:When my relations with the Communist Party gave me the necessary perspective I decided to write my autobiography. I wanted to show how a man can pass from literature held sacred to action which nevertheless remains that of an intellectual. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1011:Quand une fois la liberté a explosé dans une âme d’homme, les Dieux ne peuvent plus rien contre cet homme-là. Car c’est une affaire d’homme, et c’est aux autres hommes — à eux seuls — qu’il appartient de le laisser courir ou de l’étrangler. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1012:certain details, somewhat curtailed, live in my memory. But I don't see anything anymore: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1013:Me gustaría tanto abandonarme, olvidarme, dormir. Pero no puedo, me sofoco: la existencia me penetra por todas partes, por los ojos, por la nariz, por la boca...
Y de golpe, de un sólo golpe, el velo se desgarra, he comprendido, he visto. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1014:¡Que me den algo que hacer, lo que sea! Sería preferible que pensara en otra cosa, porque en este momento estoy por representarme la comedia. Sé muy bien que no quiero hacer nada; hacer algo es crear existencia, y ya hay bastante existencia. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1015:God is the solitude of men. There was only me: I alone decided to commit Evil; alone, I invented Good. I am the one who cheated, I am the one who performed miracles, I am the one accusing myself today, I alone can absolve myself; me, the man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1016:In irony a man annihilates what he posits within one and the same act; he leads us to believe in order not to be believed; he affirms to deny and denies to affirm; he creatives a positive object but it has no being other than its nothingness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1017:Mighty king, come from so far, prepared by so many combinations, by so many vanished gestures. He disappears in turn, so that other combinations can be born, other gestures, attacks, counterattacks, turns of luck, a crowd of small adventures. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1018:Society demands that he limit himself to his function… There are indeed many precautions to imprison a man in what he is as if we lived in perpetual fear that he might escape from it, that he might break away and suddenly elude his condition. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1019:But I must finally realize that I am subject to these sudden transformations. The thing is that I rarely think; a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1020:Shall I have to go off again, leaving my research, my book and everything else unfinished? Shall I awake in a few months, in a few years, broken, deceived, in the midst of new ruins? I would like to see the truth clearly before it is too late. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1021:All the same, they [books] do serve some purpose. Culture doesn't save anything or anyone, it doesn't justify. But it's a product of man: he projects himself into it, he recognizes himself in it; that critical mirror alone offers him his image. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1022:I would so like to let myself go, forget myself, sleep. But I can’t, I’m suffocating: existence penetrates me everywhere, through the eyes, the nose, the mouth...
And suddenly, suddenly, the veil is torn away, I have understood, I have seen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1023:Thrown into the atmosphere of action [in 1954], I suddenly understood the kind of neurosis that dominated all my previous work. I had not been able to recognize it before: I was inside. Simone de Beauvoir had guessed these reasons before I did. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1024:For the moment they wanted to live with the least expenditure, economize words, gestures, thoughts, float: they had only one day in which to smooth out their wrinkles, their crow’s feet, the bitter lines made by a hard week’s work. One day only. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1025:In so far as I make a world exist as a complex of instruments which I use for the ends of my human reality, I cause myself to be determined in my being by a being who makes the world exist as a complex of instruments for the ends of his reality. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1026:I wanted pure love: foolishness; to love one another is to hate a common enemy: I will thus espouse your hatred. I wanted Good: nonsense; on this earth and in these times, Good and Bad are inseparable: I accept to be evil in order to become good. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1027:Je suis seul au milieu de ces voix joyeuses et raisonnables. Tous ces types passent leur temps à s’expliquer, à reconnaître avec bonheur qu’ils sont du même avis. Quelle importance ils attachent, mon Dieu, à penser tous ensemble les mêmes choses. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1028:And here is the sense of its existence: it is conscious of being superfluous. It dilutes, scatters itself, tries to lose itself on the brown wall, along the lamp post or down there in the evening mist. But it never forgets itself. That is its lot. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1029:He is not one: he is afraid. What is he afraid of? When you want to understand something you stand in front of it, alone, without help: all the past in the world is of no use. Then it disappears and what you wanted to understand disappears with it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1030:L'enfer c'est les autres ”
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cela ne veut nullement dire qu'on ne puisse avoir d'autres rapports avec les autres, ça marque simplement l'importance capitale de tous les autres pour chacun de nous. »
Commentaire de Sartre sur Huis Clos ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1031:There is something I longed for more than all the rest – without realizing it properly. It wasn’t love, heaven forbid, nor glory, nor wealth. It was... anyway, I had imagined that at certain moments my life could take on a rare and precious quality. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1032:No, my child, these things are impossible. It would have been better if she had recognize the truth courageously. She would have suffered once, then time would have erased with its sponge. There is nothing like looking things in the face, believe me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1033:I thought I saw Anny smiling. I try to refresh my memory: I need to feel all the tenderness that Anny inspires; it is there, this tenderness, it is near me, only asking to be born. But the smile does not return: it is finished. I remain dry and empty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1034:His thought is both optimistic and anguished. It is anguished because he sees that we are sentenced by our freedom, imprisoned by it (since it makes us afraid); optimistic because Sartre believed that we are truly free and can indeed make free choices. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1035:I marvel at these young people: drinking their coffee, they tell clear, plausible stories. If they are asked what they did yesterday, they aren't embarrassed: they bring you up to date in a few words. If I were in their place, I'd fall all over myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1036:movements never quite exist, they are passages, intermediaries between two existences, moments of weakness, I expected to see them come out of nothingness, progressively ripen, blossom: I was finally going to surprise beings in the process of being born. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1037:But behind the existence which falls from one present to the other, without a past, without a future, behind these sounds which decompose from day to day, peel off and slip towards death, the melody stays the same, young and firm, like a pitiless witness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1038:But time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates. That gesture, for instance, the red hand picking up the cards and fumbling: it is all flabby. It would have to be ripped apart and tailored inside. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1039:In the state I was in, if someone had come and told me I could go home quietly, that they would leave me my life whole, it would have left me cold: several hours or several years of waiting is all the same when you have lost the illusion of being eternal. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1040:Many people are walking along the shore, turning poetic springtime faces towards the sea; they're having a holiday because of the sun. [...] The true sea is cold and black, full of animals; it crawls under this thin green film made to deceive human beings. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1041:Objects should not touch because they are not alive. You use them, put them back in place, you live among them: they are useful, nothing more. But they touch me, it is unbearable. I am afraid of being in contact with them as though they were living beasts. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1042:C'est la nuit, qui abolit tout, fatigues et passions. Les opprimés dorment, les révoltés aussi; le monde est enseveli, l'histoire reprend haleine. Il reste, dans une bulle de lumière entourée de néant, cette élite qui veille, tout occupée de ses cérémonies. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1043:Ich möchte Ihnen so viel sagen, aber ich bin ausgeleert, sobald ich zu sprechen anfange. Alles ist wie weggeblasen. Sehen Sie: ich finde Sie schön, zum Beispiel; aber ich kann mich nicht wirklich darüber freuen. Es ist, als ob mir etwas fehlte ..." (S. 64). ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1044:Perhaps it is impossible to understand one's own face. Or perhaps it is because I am a single man? People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1045:Where shall I keep mine? You don’t put your past in your pocket; you have to have a house. I have only my body: a man entirely alone, with his lonely body, cannot indulge in memories; they pass through him. I shouldn’t complain: all I wanted was to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1046:Where shall I keep mine? you don't put your past in your pocket; you have to have a house. I have only my body: a man entirely alone, with his lonely body, cannot indulge in memories; they pass through him. I shouldn't complain: all I wanted was to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1047:Ce qu'il y a, c'est que je pense très rarement; alors une foule de petites métamorphoses s'accumulent en moi sans que j'y prenne garde et puis, un beau jour, il se produit une véritable révolution. C'est ce qui a donné à ma vie cet aspect heurté, incohérent. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1048:Estoy solo en medio de estas voces alegres y razonables. Todos estos tipos se pasan el tiempo explicándose, reconociendo con felicidad que comparten las mismas opiniones. ¡Qué importancia conceden, Dios mío, al hecho de pensar todos juntos las mismas cosas!. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1049:Houses were never sanctuaries. The Gestapo often conducted their arrests between midnight and five in the morning. It appeared that at any instant the door could open, allowing a cold breath of night air to blow in, and three friendly Germans with revolvers. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1050:I am abandoned in the world... in the sense that I find myself suddenly alone and without help, engaged in a world for which I bear the whole responsibility without being able, no matter what I do, to tear myself away from this responsibility for an instant. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1051:Suddenly they existed, then suddenly they existed no longer: existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing—not even a memory. Existence everywhere, infinitely, in excess, for ever and everywhere; existence—which is limited only by existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1052:They explain the new by the old—and the old they explain by the older still, like those
historians who turn a Lenin into a Russian Robespierre, and a Robespierre into a French Cromwell: when all is said and done, they have never understood anything at all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1053:Esto es lo que engaña a la gente; el hombre es siempre un narrador de historias; vive rodeado de sus historias y de las ajenas, ve a través de ellas todo lo que le sucede, y trata de vivir su vida como si la contara.
Pero hay que escoger: o vivir o contar. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1054:People who live in society have learned to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. Is that why my flesh is naked? You might say - yes you might say, nature without humanity… Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1055:So it comes to this; one doesn’t need rest. Why bother about sleep if one isn’t sleepy? That stands to reason, doesn’t it? Wait a minute, there’s a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? …Ah, I see; it’s life without a break. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1056:Ya ben kendi geçmişimi nerede saklayacağım? Geçmiş cebe konmaz ki. Bunu yerleştirecek bir evin olması gerekir. Benimse sadece bedenim var. Bedeniyle yalnız olan bir insan, anıları durduramaz, üzerinden aşıp gider onlar. Acı çekmeliyim. Sadece özgür olmak istedim. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1057:I was there, standing in front of a window whose panes had a definite refraction index. But what feeble barriers! I suppose it is out of laziness that the world is the same day after day. Today it seemed to want to change. And then, anything, anything could happen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1058:Pamažėle žengiau prie pabaigos, neturėdamas nei kitų vilčių, nei kitokių troškimų,išskyrus tuos, kuriais teks užpildyti savo knygas, įsitikinęs, kad paskutinis mano širdies polėkis bus įrašytas į paskutinio mano raštų tomo puslapį ir kad mirčiai atiteks tik lavonas. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1059:What then did you expect when you unbound the gag that muted those black mouths? That they would chant your praises? Did you think that when those heads that our fathers had forcibly bowed down to the ground were raised again, you would find adoration in their eyes? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1060:Aegistheus, the kings have another secret.... Once liberty has exploded in the soul of a man, the Gods can do nothing against that man. It is a matter for men to handle amongst themselves, and it is up to other men and to them alone to let him flee or to destroy him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1061:When I was little, my Aunt Bigeois told me 'If you look at yourself too long in the mirror, you'll see a monkey.' I must have looked at myself even longer than that: what I see is well below the monkey, on the fringe of the vegetable world, at the level of jellyfish. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1062:They are as unfree as Roquentin, yet they hide the terrible imprisonment of their existences by unthinkingly getting up, going out to work, relaxing on Sundays, and so on. They wrongly imagine that they have chosen this form of life, when of course it has chosen them. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1063:All of a sudden something breaks off sharply. The adventure is over, time resumes its daily routine. I turn; behind me, this beautiful melodious form sinks entirely into the past. It grows smaller, contracts as it declines, and now the end makes one with the beginning. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1064:My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1065:Perhaps there is nothing in the world I cling to as much as this feeling of adventure; but it comes when it pleases; it is gone so quickly and how empty I am once it has left. Does it, ironically, pay me these short visits in order to show me that I have wasted my life? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1066:(...) sólo el perro o el caballo podrían emitir un juicio de conjunto sobre el hombre y declarar que el hombre es asombroso, lo que ellos no se preocupan de hacer, por lo menos que yo sepa. Pero no se puede admitir que un hombre pueda formular un juicio sobre el hombre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1067:The first crime was mine: I committed it when I made man mortal. Once I had done that, what was left for you, poor human murderers, to do? To kill your victims? But they already had the seed of death in them; all you could do was to hasten its fruition by a year or two. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1068:Everything that burns, everything that rips me apart, I want to suffer with my body. I'd rather have a hundred wounds, whips, poisons - than this kind of suffering in the head, this phantom of suffering, which touches me softly and caresses me without ever really hurting. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1069:I will take it all: tongs, molten lead, prongs, garrotes, all that burns, all that tears, I want to truly suffer. Better one hundred bites, better the whip, vitriol, than this suffering in the head, this ghost of suffering which grazes and caresses and never hurts enough. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1070:My passion was dead. For years it had rolled over and submerged me; now I felt empty. But that wasn't the worst: before me, posed with a sort of indolence, was a voluminous, insipid idea. I did not see clearly what it was, but it sickened me so much I couldn't look at it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1071:I would not say that ethical behavior is not possible for the atheist or agnostic. It is. A couple of pretty good examples are Bertrand Russell and Jean-Paul Sartre. However, I will have to say that if we take the human lot as a whole, these two men must be seen as exceptions. ~ Huston Smith, #NFDB
1072:The Nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. I am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am I myself not a wave of icy air? With neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. Flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. To be nothing but coldness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1073:Before beginning this treatise, he wanted the advice of The Baboon, his philosophy prof. “Excuse me, sir,” he said at the end of a class, “could anyone claim that we don’t exist?” The Baboon said no. “Goghito,” he said, “ergo zum. You exist because you doubt your existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1074:The existent individual, as Kierkegaard defines him, is first of all he who is in an infinite relationship with himself and has an infinite interest in himself and his destiny. Secondly, the existent individual always feels himself to be in Becoming, with a task before him; ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1075:The way, applicable in our non-revolutionary societies, to prepare for the time when everyone will read, is to pose problems in the most radical and intransigent manner. This is what Alain Badiou has just done in Almagestes, where he puts language on trial with an intention ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1076:They are young and well built, they have another thirty years ahead of them. So they don't hurry, they take their time, and they are quite right. Once they have been to bed together, they will have to find something else to conceal the enormous absurdity of their existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1077:Aujourd'hui, je leur donne raison : ils avaient tout accepté de notre condition, même l'inquiétude ; j'avais choisi d'être rassuré ; et c'était bien vrai, au fond, que je me croyais immortel : je m'étais tué d'avance parce que les défunts sont seuls à jouir de l'immortalité. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1078:Ötekilere yalan söylemesinden hoşlanıyordum. Ama bana aynı biçimde davranmamasını isterdim. Bütün bu ölülerin üstünden, çarşılardaki yankesiciler gibi anlaşabileceğimizi ve onun en sonunda bana gerçeği söyleyeceğini ummuştum. Oysa hiçbir şey söylemedi bana, evet, hiçbir şey! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1079:His blue cotton shirt stands out joyfully against a chocolate-coloured wall. That too brings on the Nausea. The Nausea is not inside me: I feel it OUT THERE in the wall, in the suspenders, everywhere around me. It makes itself one with the café, I am the one who is within IT. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1080:float: they had only one day in which to smooth out their wrinkles, their crow’s feet, the bitter lines made by a hard week’s work. One day only. They felt the minutes flowing between their fingers; would they have time to store up enough youth to start anew on Monday morning? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1081:Perhaps it is impossible to understand one's own face ... People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? You might say -- yes you might say, nature without humanity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1082:Si l'on ne se définit qu'en s'opposant, j'étais l'indéfini en chair et en os; si l'amour et la haine sont l'avers et le revers de la même médaille, je n'aimais rien ni personne. C'était bien fait: on ne peut pas demander à la fois de haïr et de plaire. Ni de plaire et d'aimer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1083:Suis-je donc un Narcisse ? Pas même : trop soucieux de séduire, je m'oublie. Après tout, ça ne m'amuse pas tant de faire des pâtés, des gribouillages, mes besoins naturels : pour leur donner du prix à mes yeux, il faut qu'au moins une grande personne s'extasie sur mes produits. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1084:But if you seek counsel - from a priest, for example - you have selected that priest; and at bottom you already knew, more or less, what he would advise. In other words, to choose an adviser is nevertheless to commit oneself by that choice. ("From: Existentialism is a Humanism") ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1085:Quelquefois je m'approchais pour observer ces boîtes qui se fendaient comme des huîtres et je découvrais la nudité de leurs organes intérieurs, des feuilles blêmes et moisies, légèrement boursouflées, couvertes de veinules noires, qui buvaient l'encre et sentaient le champignon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1086:This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story. But you have to choose: live or tell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1087:Lola was beside him , soft and very warm, and Boris could not bring himself to utter the slightest word, his voice was dead. 'Just as though I were dumb.' It was delicious, his voice was floating at the far end of his throat, soft as cotton, and could not emerge, for it was dead. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1088:Ama bardağımın dibinde biram ılıksa, aynada koyu renkli lekeler varsa, fazlalıksam; en içten ve en katışıksız acım, ayıbalığı gibi, hem bir yığın et hem gepgeniş bir deriyle ve insanın içine dokunan ıslak, ama kötülük dolu gözlerle sürüklenip hantallaşıyorsa bu benim kabahatim mi? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1089:Atheistic existentialism, of which I am a representative, declares with greater consistency that if God does not exist there is at least one being whose existence comes before its essence, a being which exists before it can be defined by any conception of it. That being is man.... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1090:By extending the idea of natural law to the economic sphere - an inevitable but fundamental error - they (18th century philosophes) both secularized the economy and converted it into a domain external to man: a system of inflexible laws whose constraints permitted no modification. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1091:Hayır, böylesine acı çekme gücünü kendinden almıyor o. Bu güç ona dışarıdan geliyor...Şu bulvardan. Kolundan tutup ışığa, insanların arasına, pespembe sokaklara götürmeli onu. Orada böyle acı çekilmez, yumuşayıverir, güven dolu halini bulur ve her zamanki acılarının düzeyine iner. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1092:Lucien thought with bitter pleasure that his parents found him looking fine. “I don’t exist.” He closed his eyes and let himself drift: existence is an illusion because I know I don t exist, all I have to do is plug my ears and not think about anything and I’ll become nothingness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1093:Tal vez sea imposible comprender el propio rostro. ¿O acaso es porque soy un hombre solo? Los que viven en sociedad han aprendido a mirarse en los espejos, tal como los ven sus amigos. Yo no tengo amigos; ¿por eso es mi carne tan desnuda? Sí, es como la naturaleza sin los hombres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1094:The bond between being and non-being can be only internal. It is within being qua being that non-being must arise, and within non-being that being must spring up; and this relation can not be a fact, a natural law, but an upsurge of the being which is its own nothingness of being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1095:A search for justification and the impossibility of justification are recurrent motifs in the philosophy of Sartre. His philosophy is one of the incarnations of problematism and of the ambiguity of contemporary thought (for Man does seem, to the contemporary mind, to be ambiguous). ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1096:On my way to the office in the morning, there are, in front of me, behind me, other men going to their jobs. I see them; if I dared, I would smile at them. I think to myself that I am a socialist, that they are the purpose of my life, of my efforts and that they do not know it yet. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1097:Every existing thing is born without reason, prolongs itself out of weakness and dies by chance. I leaned back and closed my eyes. But the images, forewarned, immediately leaped up and filled my closed eyes with existences: existence is a fullness which man can never abandon. Strange ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1098:No era el aire miserable de aquel tipo lo que nos daba miedo, ni el tumor que tenía en el pescuezo y que el borde del cuello postizo rozaba; sentíamos que elaboraba en su cabeza pensamientos de cangrejo o langosta. Y nos aterrorizaba que pudieran concebirse pensamientos de langosta... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1099:the diversity of things, their individuality, were only an appearance, a veneer. This veneer had melted,
leaving soft, monstrous masses, all in disorder—naked, in a frightful, obscene nakedness. I kept myself from making the slightest movement, but I didn't need to move in order to ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1100:Karsky: I met your father last week. Are you still interested in hearing how he is doing?
Hugo: No.
Karsky: It is very probable that you will be responsible for his death.
Hugo: It is virtually certain that he is responsible for my life. We are even. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1101:I do hang out with girls, I do relax. But I am a hermit sometimes and get a bit too introverted, too 'Jean-Paul Sartre' and intellectual in my head. And it's like a Kafka novel in there, things get nuts. Then I have to remind myself to get out and I will go and play ice hockey with my friends. ~ Josh Peck, #NFDB
1102:Like morality, literature needs to be universal. So that the writer must put himself on the side of the majority, of the two billion starving, if he wishes to be able to speak to all and be read by all. Failing that, he is at the service of a privileged class and, like it, an exploiter. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1103:Non ci si può mettere il passato in tasca; bisogna avere una casa per sistemarvelo. Io non possiedo che il mio corpo; un uomo completamente solo, col suo corpo soltanto, non può fermare i ricordi, gli passano attraverso. Non dovrei lagnarmi: il mio solo desiderio è stato d'esser libero. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1104:I said to myself: Perhaps there is nothing in the world I cling to as much as this feeling of adventure; but it comes when it pleases; it is gone so quickly and how empty I am once it has left. Does it, ironically, pay me these short visits in order to show me that I have wasted my life? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1105:I scraped my heel against this black claw: I wanted to peel off some of the bark. For no reason at all, out of defiance, to make the bare pink appear absurd on the tanned leather: to play with the absurdity of the world. But, when I drew my heel back, I saw that the bark was still black. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1106:There were days when you peered into yourself, into the secret places of your heart, and what you saw there made you faint with horror. And then, next day, you didn't know what to make of it,you couldn't interpret the horror you had glimpsed the day before. Yes, you know what evil costs. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1107:You talk a lot about this amazing flow of time but you hardly see it. you see a women, you think that one day she'll be old, only you don't see her grow old. But there are moments when you think you see her grow old and feel yourself growing old with her: this is the feeling of adventure. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1108:It is alive, I can’t say it isn’t; but this was not the life that Anny contemplated: I see a slight tremor, I see the insipid flesh blossoming and palpitating with abandon. The eyes especially are horrible seen so close. They are glassy, soft, blind, red-rimmed, they look like fish scales. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1109:Finally, it is worth mentioning, in the interest of thoroughness, that the defeat exasperated the conflict between generations. For four years the combatants of 1914 reproached those of 1940 for having lost the war, and those of 1940, in reply, accused their elders of having lost the peace. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1110:I don't even bother looking for words. It flows in me, more or less quickly. I fix nothing, I let it go. Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up: I forget them almost immediately. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1111:What would you expect to find when the muzzle that has silenced the voices of black men is removed?
That they would chant your praises?
Did you think that when those heads that our fathers had forcibly bowed down to the ground were raised again, you would find adoration in their eyes? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1112:There are two kinds of existentialist; first, those who are Christian...and on the other hand the atheistic existentialists, among whom...I class myself. What they have in common is that they think that existence precedes essence, or, if you prefer, that subjectivity must be the turning point. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1113:The vegetation has crawled mile for mile towards the towns. It is waiting. When the town dies, the Vegetation will invade it, it will clamber over the stones, it will grip them, search them, burst them open with its long black pincers; it will bind the holes and hang its green paws everywhere. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1114:When she was in Djibouti and I was in Aden, and I used to go and see her for twenty-four hours, she managed to multiply the misunderstandings between us until there were exactly sixty minutes before I had to leave; sixty minutes, just long enough to make you feel the seconds passing one by one. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1115:Undoubtedly, on his death bed, at
that moment when, ever since Socrates, it has been proper to pronounce certain elevated words, he told
his wife, as one of my uncles told his, who
had watched beside him for twelve nights, "I do not thank you, Therese; you have only done your
duty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1116:From one end to another in this war, we did not recognize our actions, we were not able to vindicate their consequences. The evil was everywhere, every choice was a bad choice, and yet it was necessary to choose and we are responsible. Every heartbeat thrust us into a guiltiness that horrified us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1117:We are now in a position to understand the anti-Semite. He is a man who is afraid. Not of the Jews, to be sure, but of himself, of his own consciousness, of his liberty, of his instincts, of his responsibilities, of solitariness, of change, of society, and of the world of everything except the Jews. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1118:I have never before had such a strong feeling that I was devoid of secret dimensions, confined within the limits of my body, from which airy thoughts float up like bubbles. I build memories with my present self. I am cast out, forsaken in the present: I vainly try to rejoin the past: I cannot escape. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1119:In wanting freedom we discover that it depends entirely on the freedom of others, and that the freedom of others depends on ours. . . I am obliged to want others to have freedom at the same time that I want my own freedom. I can take freedom as my goal only if I take that of others as a goal as well. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1120:I'm going to leave, I'm going to take my train. But behind the existence which falls from one present to the other, without a past, without a future, behind these sounds which decompose from day to day, peel off and slip towards death, the melody stays the same, young and firm, like a pitiless witness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1121:Oh, what a nuisance you are! I'm giving you my mouth, my arms, my whole body - and everything could be so simple...My trust! I haven't any to give, I'm afraid, and you're making me terribly embarrassed. You must have something pretty ghastly on your conscience to make such a fuss about my trusting you. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1122:Thirdly, the existent individual is impassioned, impassioned with a passionate thought; he is inspired; he is a kind of incarnation of the infinite in the finite. This passion which animates the existent (and this brings us to the fourth characteristic) is what Kierkegaard calls “the passion of freedom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1123:When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell a story: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends. You let events flow by too: you suddenly see people appear who speak and then go away; you plunge into stories of which you can't make head or tail: you'd make a terrible witness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1124:Anyhow, it is a definite colour: I am glad I have red hair. There is it is in the mirror, it makes itself seen, it shines. I am still lucky if my forehead was surmounted by one of those neutral heads of hair which are neither chestnut not blond, my face would be lost in vagueness, it would make me dizzy. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1125:Couldn’t I try. . . . Naturally, it wouldn’t be a question of a tune . . . but couldn’t I, in another medium? . . . It would have to be a book: I don’t know how to do anything else. But not a history book: history talks about what has existed—an existant can never justify the existence of another existant ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1126:Because the Nazi venom worked its way even into our thoughts, every accurate thought was a conquest; because an all-powerful police sought to force us into silence every word became as precious as a declaration of principle; because we were persecuted, each of our gestures carried the weight of a commitment. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1127:Aujourd'hui encore, je ne puis voir sans plaisir un enfant trop sérieux parler gravement, tendrement à sa mère enfant; j'aime ces douces amitiés sauvages qui naissent loin des hommes et contre eux.
Je regarde longuement ces couples puérils et puis je me rappelle que je suis un homme et je détourne la tête. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1128:Man can will nothing unless he has first understood that he must count on no one but himself; that he is alone, abandoned on earth in the midst of his infinite responsibilities, without help, with no other aim than the one he sets himself, with no other destiny than the one he forges for himself on this earth. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1129:What he [the intellectual] should learn to do is to put what he has been able to salvage from the disciplines that taught him universal techniques, directly at the service of the masses. Intellectuals must learn to understand the universal that the masses want, in reality, in the immediate, at this very moment. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1130:I love you enormously. I’m spending a little time away from you—quite absurd and contingent. I would so like to see you, my stubborn little thing, and tell you my stories and hold your hand. You are my love, you good little being. Far from you I measure the nothingness of the flesh, and I am not having much fun. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1131:Io sono per sempre condannato ad esistere al di là della mia essenza, al di là del moventi e del motivi della mia azione, sono condannato ad essere libero. E ciò significa che non è possibile trovare alla libertà altri limiti oltre se stessa, o, se si preferisce, che non siamo liberi di cessare di essere liberi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1132:And the concert halls overflow with humiliated, outraged people who close their eyes and try to turn their pale faces into receiving antennæ. They imagine that the sounds flow into them, sweet, nourishing, and that their sufferings become music, like Werther; they think that beauty is compassionate to them. Mugs. I ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1133:But a big or little rascal? I don’t have a high enough opinion of historical research to lose my time over a dead man whose hand, if he were alive, I would not deign to touch. What do I know about him? You couldn’t dream of a better life than his: but did he live it? If only his letters weren’t so formal. . . . Ah, ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1134:time. The old woman reaches the corner of the street, no more than a bundle of black clothes. All right then, it’s new, she wasn’t there a little while ago. But it’s a tarnished deflowered newness, which can never surprise. She is going to turn the corner, she turns—during an eternity. I tear myself from the window ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1135:Perhaps it is impossible to understand one's own face. Or perhaps it is because I am a single man? People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? You might say--yes, you might say, nature without humanity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1136:We were a heap of living creatures, irritated, embarrassed at ourselves, we hadn't the slightest reason to be there, none of us, each one, confused, vaguely alarmed, felt in the way in relation to others. In the way: it was the only relationship I could establish between these, tress, these gates, these stones. . . . ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1137:Descoperind că sunt mic,n-am mai cunoscut decât o singură lege:să mă caţăr.
Am devenit trădător şi am rămas trădător.În zadar mă implic total în ceea ce fac,mă dăruiesc fără preget muncii,maniei,prieteniei,peste o clipă am să mă reneg,o ştiu,şi mă trădez de pe acum,în plină pasiune voioasă a viitoarei mele trădări. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1138:S pogledom objamem prostor in prevzame me strašen stud. Kaj delam tu? Zakaj sem se spustil v to prerekanje o humanizmu? Zakaj so ti ljudje tu? Zakaj jedo? Res je, ne vedo, da bivajo. Želim si oditi, želim iti nekam, kjer bi bil zares na svojem mestu, kjer bi se lahko nekam uvrstil. Mojega mesta pa ni nikjer; odveč sem ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1139:Nicias, do you think you can erase with good deeds the wrongs you committed against your mother? What good deed will ever reach her? Her soul is a scorching noon time, without a single breath of a breeze, nothing moves, nothing changes, nothing lives there; a great emaciated sun, an immobile sun eternally consumes her. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1140:Nothing has changed and yet everything is different. I can’t describe it; it’s like the Nausea and yet it’s just the opposite: at last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1141:El pasado es un lujo de propietario.
¿Dónde podría conservar yo el mío? Nadie se mete el pasado en el bolsillo; hay que tener una casa para acomodarlo. Mi cuerpo es lo único que poseo; un hombre solo, con su cuerpo, no puede detener los recuerdos; pasan a través de él. No debería quejarme: sólo he querido ser libre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1142:Nada ha cambiado y, sin embargo, todo existe de otra manera. No puedo describirlo; es como la Náusea y, sin embargo, es precisamente lo contrario: al fin me sucede otra aventura, y cuando me interrogo veo que me sucedo que yo soy yo y que estoy aquí; soy yo quien hiende la noche; me siento feliz como un héroe de novela. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1143:Lo sé. Sé que nunca más encontraré nada ni nadie que me inspire pasión. Tú sabes que ponerse a querer a alguien es una hazaña. Se necesita una energía, una generosidad, una ceguera... Hasta hay un momento, al principio mismo, en que es preciso saltar un precipicio; si uno reflexiona, no lo hace. Sé que nunca más saltaré. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1144:¡Qué tonto eres! Naturalmente, no he necesitado verte, si eso es lo que quieres decir. Ya sabes que no tienes nada regocijante para los ojos. Necesito que existas y que no cambies. Eres como ese metro de platino que se conserva en alguna parte, en París o en los alrededores. No creo que nadie haya tenido deseos de verlo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1145:He pensado lo siguiente: para que el suceso más trivial se convierta en aventura, es necesario y suficiente contarlo. Es esto lo que engaña a la gente: el hombre es siempre un narrador de historias; vive rodeado de sus historias y trata de vivir su vida como si la contara.
Pero hay que escoger: o vivir o contar. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1146:...jag vet på förhand att dagen är tillspillogiven. Jag kommer inte att göra någonting bra förrän kanske natten faller på. Det beror på solen; den kastar ett svagt guldskimmer över den smutsvita rök som hänger i luften över järnvägen, den silar in i mitt rum, blond och blek och ritar på bordet fyra matta, falska reflexer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1147:Atunci când trăieşti, nu se întâmplă nimic. Decorul se schimbă, oamenii intră sau ies, asta e totul. Începuturi nu există niciodată. Zilele se adaugă la alte zile fără rimă şi fără motiv, e o adiţiune interminabilă şi monotona. Nici sfârşit nu există; nimeni nu părăseşte vreodată o femeie, un prieten, un oraş dintr-o dată. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1148:Las palabras se habían desvanecido, y con ellas la significación de las cosas, sus modos de empleo, las débiles marcas que los hombres han trazado en su superficie. Estaba sentado, un poco encorvado, cabizbajo, solo frente a aquella masa negra y nudosa, enteramente bruta y que me daba miedo. Y entonces tuve esa iluminación. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1149:But the operation of writing implies that of reading as its dialectical correlative and these two connected acts necessitate two distinct agents. It is the joint effort of author and reader, which brings upon the scene that concrete and imaginary object which is the work of the mind. There is no art except for and by others. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1150:I must be without remorse or regrets as I am without excuse; for from the instant of my upsurge into being, I carry the weight of the world by myself alone without help, engaged in a world for which I bear the whole responsibility without being able, whatever I do, to tear myself away from this responsibility for an instant. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1151:Philosophy appears to some people as a homogenous milieu: there thoughts are born and die, there systems are built, and there, in turn, they collapse. Others take Philosophy for a specific attitude which we can freely adopt at will. Still others see it as a determined segment of culture. In our view Philosophy does not exist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1152:Si seulement je pouvais m'arrêter de penser, ça irait déjà mieux. Les pensées, c'est ce qu'il y a de plus fade. Plus fade encore que de la chair. Ça s'étire à n'en plus finir et ça laisse un drôle de goût. Et puis il y a les mots, au-dedans des pensées, les mots inachevés, les ébauches de phrases qui reviennent tout le temps. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1153:So it was necessary to work, to maintain a semblance of economic organization in the nation, to guarantee, despite the destruction and the pillaging, a level of activity. Unfortunately, the least action served the purposes of the enemy who was slaughtering us, attaching his suckers to our skin and living in symbiosis with us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1154:Existentialism is no mournful delectation but a humanist philosophy of action, effort, combat, and solidarity. Man must create his own essence: it is in throwing himself into the world, suffering there, struggling there, that he gradually defines say what this man is before he dies, or what mankind is before it has disappeared. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1155:One cannot help reflecting on the irony that the celebrated philosopher of freedom, the great atheist, maintained an almost religious faith in an ideology that vandalized the very face of freedom. In fact, Sartre was largely unpolitical during the 1930s (he did not vote), and Nausea is political only, as it were, at its margins. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1156:The rain has stopped, the air is mild, the sky slowly rolls up fine black images : it is more than enough to frame the perfect moment ; to reflect these images, she would cause dark little tides to be born in our hearts. I don't know how to take advantage of the occasion : I walk at random, calm and empty, under this wasted sky. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1157:Certain details, somewhat curtailed, live in my memory. But I don't see anything any more: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction. There are many cases where even these scraps have disappeared: nothing is left but words. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1158:The absurd man will not commit suicide; he wants to live, without relinquishing any of his certainty, without a future, without hope, without illusions … and without resignation either. He stares at death with passionate attention and this fascination liberates him. He experiences the “divine irresponsibility” of the condemned man. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1159:What sort of adventures?” I ask him, astonished. “All sorts, Monsieur. Getting on the wrong train. Stopping in an unknown city. Losing your briefcase, being arrested by mistake, spending the night in prison. Monsieur, I believed the word adventure could be defined: an event out of the ordinary without being necessarily extraordinary ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1160:Ik begreep opeens dat er geen tussenweg was tussen niet-bestaan en deze weemakende overdadigheid. Als je bestond, moest je *bestaan tot op dat punt*, tot aan de verschimmeling, het zwellen, tot aan de obsceniteit. In een andere wereld behouden cirkels, melodieën, hun zuivere, strakke lijnen. Maar het bestaan is een aftakelingsproces. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1161:You complain
because things don't arrange themselves around you like a bouquet of flowers, without your taking the
slightest trouble to do anything. But I have never asked as much: I wanted action. You know, when we
played adventurer and adventuress: you were the one who had adventures, I was the one who made
them happen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1162:There are photographers who push for war because they make stories. They search for a Chinese who has a more Chinese are than the others and they end up finding one. They have him take a typically Chinese pose and surround him with chinoiseries. What have they captured on their film? A Chinese? Definitely not: the idea of the Chinese. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1163:At one point, Roquentin realizes that the seat he is on is a seat only by name: “it could just as well be a dead donkey. . . . Things are divorced from their names. They are there, grotesque, headstrong, gigantic, and it seems ridiculous to call them seats or say anything at all about them: I am in the midst of things, nameless things. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1164:Je ne peux plus rien d'autre. Je ne les entends plus, tu sais. C'est sans doute qu'ils en ont fini avec moi. Fini: l'affaire est classée, je ne suis plus rien sur terre, même plus un lâche. Inès, nous voilà seuls: il n'y a plus que vous deux pour penser à moi. Elle ne compte pas. Mais toi, toi qui me hais, si tu me crois, tu me sauves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1165:This is what I thought: for the most banal even to become an adventure, you must (and this is enough) begin to recount it. This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story. But you have to choose: live or tell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1166:If [literature] should turn into pure propaganda or pure entertainment, society will slip back into the sty of the immediate -- which is to say, the memoryless existence of hymenoptera and gastropods. None of this is so important, to be sure. The world can get by nicely without literature. But without human beings it can get by better yet. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1167:This is what I thought: for the most banal even to become an adventure, you must (and this is enough) begin to recount it. This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story.
But you have to choose: live or tell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1168:What sort of adventures?' I asked him, astonished.
‘All sorts, Monsieur. Getting on the wrong train. Stopping in an unknown city. Losing your briefcase, being arrested by mistake, spending the night in prison. Monsieur, I believe the word adventure could be defined: an event out of the ordinary without being necessarily extraordinary. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1169:All I want is' - and he uttered the final words through clenched teeth and with a sort of shame - 'to retain my freedom.' I should myself have thought,' said Jacques, 'that freedom consisted in frankly confronting situations into which one had deliberately entered, and accepting all one's responsibilities. But that, no doubt, is not your view. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1170:I have crossed the seas, I have left cities behind me, and I have followed the source of rivers towards their source or plunged into forests, always making for other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men ; and I could never turn back any more than a record can spin in reverse. And all that was leading me where ? To this very moment. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1171:İnsanın kendi yüzünü anlayabilmesi belki de elinde değil. Belki de tek başıma yaşadığım için böyle oluyor. Topluluk içinde yaşayanlar, kendilerini, arkadaşlarına nasıl görünüyorlarsa aynalarda tıpkı öyle görmeyi öğrenmişlerdir. Benim arkadaşım yok. Tenimin bunca çıplak olması acaba bu yüzden mi? Buna insansız... evet insansız doğa denilebilir. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1172:The sun is not ridiculous, quite the contrary. On everything I like, on the rust of the construction girders, on the rotten boards of the fence, a miserly, uncertain light falls, like the look you give, after a sleepless night, on decisions made with enthusiasm the day before, on pages you have written in one spurt without crossing out a word. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1173:I am not listening to him any more, but he
must have strayed from his original subject because I suddenly hear:
". . . to have, as you, the good fortune of writing a book." I have to say something. "Good fortune," I say, dubiously.
He mistakes the sense of my answer and rapidly corrects himself:
"Monsieur, I should have said: 'merit. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1174:If... if I didn't try to get my life moving on my own account, I should think it just absurd to go on living.'
A look of smiling obstinacy had come into Marcelle's face.
'Yes, yes - it's your vice.'
'It's not a vice. It's how I'm made.'
'Why aren't other people made like that, if it isn't a vice?'
'They are, only they don't know it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1175:She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1176:What is meant here by saying that existence precedes essence? It means first of all, man exists, turns up, appears on the scene, and, only afterwards, defines himself. If man, as the existentialist conceives him, is indefinable, it is because at first he is nothing. Only afterward will he be something, and he himself will have made what he will be. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1177:I live in the past. I take everything that has happened to me and arrange it. From a distance like that, it doesn't do any harm, you'd almost let yourself be caught in it. Our whole story is fairly beautiful. I give it a few prods and it makes a whole string of perfect moments. Then I close my eyes and try to imagine that I'm still living inside it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1178:Otodidakt konuşmak istiyor gibi. Bakışı çok acayip; görmek için değil bu bakış, ruhça anlaşmayı sağlamak için. Otodidakt'ın ruhu, belli belirsiz göründüğü o ulu kör gözlerine yükselmiş. Benimki de öyle yapsın, gelip burnunu camlara yapıştırsın; ikisi de kibarca kırıtıp dursunlar.
Ruhça anlaşma istemiyorum, daha bu kadar düşmedim.Geri çekiliyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1179:All I want is' - and he uttered the final words through clenched teeth and with a sort of shame - 'to retain my freedom.'
I should myself have thought,' said Jacques, 'that freedom consisted in frankly confronting situations into which one had deliberately entered, and accepting all one's responsibilities. But that, no doubt, is not your view. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1180:He was free, free in every way, free to behave like a fool or a machine, free to accept, free to refuse, free to equivocate; to marry, to give up the game, to drag this death weight about with him for years to come. He could do what he liked, no one had the right to advise him, there would be for him no Good or Evil unless he thought them into being. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1181:Concha would cry when she found out I was dead, she should have no taste for life for months afterward. But I was still the one who was going to die. I thought of her soft, beautiful eyes. when she looked at me something passed her to me. But I knew it was over: if she looked at me now the look would stay in her eyes, it wouldn't reach me. I was alone ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1182:I consented to die in his place; his life had no more value than mine; no life had value. They were going to slap a man up against a wall and shoot at him till he died, whether it was I or Gris or somebody else made no difference. I knew he was more useful than I to the cause of Spain but I thought to hell with Spain and anarchy; nothing was important. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1183:Nous sommes seuls, sans excuses. C’est ce que j’exprimerais en disant que l’homme est condamné à être libre. Condamné, parce qu’il ne s’est pas créé lui-même, et par ailleurs cependant libre, parce qu’une fois jeté dans le monde, il est responsable de tout ce qu’il fait. […] L’homme, sans aucun secours, est condamné à chaque instant à inventer l’homme. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1184:But no: he was empty, he was confronted by a vast anger, a desperate anger, he saw it and could almost have touched it. But it was inert - if it were to live and find expression and suffer, he must lend it his own body. It was other people's anger. "Swine!" He clenched his fists, he strode along, but nothing came, the anger remained external to himself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1185:I don't need to turn around to know they are watching me through the windows: they are watching my back with surprise and disgust; they thought I was like them, that I was a man, and I deceived them. I suddenly lost the appearance of a man and they saw a crab running backwards out of this human room. Now the unmasked intruder has fled: the show goes on. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1186:I know. I know that I shall never again meet anything or anybody who will inspire me with passion. You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it. I know I'll never jump again. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1187:[Lost of the absolute] is in this sense that ''I no longer know what to do with my life" must be understood. Critics have been mistaken about the meaning of this phrase, seeing in it a cry of despair as in Simone de Beauvoir's "I have been cheated." When she uses this word it is to indicate that she claims from life an absolute which she cannot find there. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1188:He walked on in silence, the solitary sound of his footsteps echoing in his head, as in a deserted street, at dawn. His solitude was so complete, beneath a lovely sky as mellow and serene as a good conscience, amid that busy throng, that he was amazed at his own existence; he must be somebody else's nightmare, and whoever it was would certainly awaken soon. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1189:I was all consciousness of its existence. Still detached from it - since I was conscious of it - and yet lost in it, nothing but it...Existence is not something which allows itself to be thought of from a distance; it has to invade you suddenly, pounce upon you, weigh heavily on your heart like a huge motionless animal - or else there is nothing left at all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1190:Ağacın çevresinde depreşip duran bütün bu var olanlar, hiçbir yerden gelmiyor ve hiçbir yere gitmiyorlardı. Birden var oluyorlar ve sonra birden varoluştan kesiliyorlardı: Varoluş bellekten yoksundur, kaybolmuşlarla ilgili tek bir anısı bile yoktur. Her yanda varoluş, bitimsiz, fazladan, her yerde ve her zaman varoluş; ancak yine varoluşla sınırlanan varoluş! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1191:Mais comme mes regards tombaient sur le bloc de feuilles blanches, je fus saisi par son aspect et je restai, la plume en l'air, à contempler ce papier éblouissant : comme il était dur et voyant, comme il était présent. Il n'y avait rien en lui que du présent. Les lettres que je venais d'y tracer n'étaient pas encore sèches et déjà elles ne m'appartenaient plus. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1192:When Sartre wrote “Paris Under the Occupation,” the dead were still being mourned while the fate of prisoners of war and the deported remained unknown. Shortages of food and raw materials, a crippled transportation system, rampant inflation, and a thriving black market were sources of great unrest. Months before the Liberation, the settling of scores had begun. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1193:The idea is still there, unnameable. It waits, peacefully. Now it seems to say: “Yes? Is that what you wanted? Well, that’s exactly what you’ve never had (remember you fooled yourself with words, you called the glitter of travel, the love of women, quarrels, and trinkets adventure) and this is what you’ll never have—and no one other than yourself.” But Why? WHY? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1194:I have crossed the seas, I have left cities behind me,
and I have followed the source of rivers towards their
source or plunged into forests, always making for other
cities. I have had women, I have fought with men ; and
I could never turn back any more than a record can spin
in reverse. And all that was leading me where ?
To this very moment... ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1195:Je pense, lui dis-je, que nous voilà, tous tant que nous sommes, à manger et à boire pour conserver notre précieuse existence et qu’il n’y a rien, rien, aucune raison d’exister… L’autodidacte répondit que la vie a un sens si on veut bien lui en donner un. Il faut d’abord agir, se jeter dans une entreprise. Il y a un but, Monsieur, il y a un but… il y a les hommes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1196:I think there is an enormous diference between speaking and writing. One rereads what one writes. But one might read it slowly or quickly. In other words, you do not know how long you will have to spend deliberating over a sentence. ... But if I listen to a tape recorder, the listening time is determined by the speed at which the tape turns and not by my own needs. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1197:It was true, I had always realized it—I hadn’t any “right” to exist at all. I had appeared by chance, I existed like a stone, a plant, a microbe. I could feel nothing to myself but an inconsequential buzzing. I was thinking…that here we are eating and drinking, to preserve our precious existence, and that there’s nothing, nothing, absolutely no reason for existing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1198:Gökyüzü hâlâ aydınlıktı ama toprak alacakaranlığa gömülmüştü. Kalabalık dağılmaya başladı. Denizin iç çekişleri iyice duyuluyordu. İki eliyle parmaklığa abanmış bir genç kadın, dudak boyasının karasıyla çizgilenmiş mavi yüzünü gökyüzüne çevirdi. Bir aralık, "İnsanları sevecek miyim yoksa?" diye düşündüm. Ama bu, eninde sonunda onların pazarıydı, benim pazarım değil. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1199:Bir çeşit kesinlik... fiziksel bir kesinlik içindeyim, yetkin anların olmadığını duyuyorum. Yürüdüğüm zaman ta ayaklarımda bile duyuyorum bunu. Her zaman, hatta uykuda bile duyuyorum, unutamıyorum. Bir anda anlamış değilim bunu; hayatım şu gün, şu saatte birdenbire değişti diyemem. Ama şu anda, sanki bu bana dün açıklanmış gibiyim. Şaşkınım, tedirginim, alışamıyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1200:Bana tutku verecek herhangi bir şeye ya da kimseye artık rastlamayacağımı biliyorum. Birisini sevmeye kalkışmak önemli bir işe girişmek gibidir, bilirsin. Enerji, kendini veriş, körlük ister. Hatta başlangıçta bir uçurumun üzerinden sıçramanın gerektiği bir an vardır. Düşünmeye kalkarsa atlayamaz insan. Bundan böyle artık bu gerekli sıçrayışı yapamayacağımı biliyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1201:Algo comienza para terminar; la aventura no admite añadiduras; sólo cobra sentido con su muerte. Hacia esta muerte, que acaso sea también la mía, me veo arrastrado irreversiblemente. Cada instante aparece para traer los siguientes. Me aferro a cada instante con toda el alma; sé que es único, irreemplazable, y, sin embargo, no movería un dedo para impedir su aniquilación. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1202:Get this into your head: if violence were only a thing of the future, if exploitation and oppression never existed on earth, perhaps displays of nonviolence might relieve the conflict. But if the entire regime, even your nonviolent thoughts, is governed by a thousand-year old oppression, your passiveness serves no other purpose but to put you on the side of the oppressors. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1203:I glance around the room. What a comedy! All these people sitting there, looking serious, eating. No, they aren't eating: they are recuperating in order to successfully finish their tasks. Each one of them has his little personal difficulty which keeps him from noticing that he exists; there isn't one of them who doesn't believe himself indispensable to something or someone. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1204:Useless, it was useless to get in since I don't want to go anywhere.
Bluish objects pass the windows. In jerks all stiff, and brittle; people, walls; a house offers me its black heart through open windows; and the windows pale, all that is black becomes blue, blue this great yellow brick house advancing uncertainly, trembling, suddenly stopping and taking a nose dive. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1205:We stay silent for a moment. Evening is coming on; I can hardly make out the pale spot of her face. Her black dress melts with the shadow which floods the room. I pick up my cup mechanically, there’s a little tea left in it and I bring it to my lips. The tea is cold. I want to smoke but I don’t dare. I have the terrible feeling that we have nothing more to say to one another. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1206:It is an abstract change without object. Am I the one who has changed? (...) I must finally realize that I am subject to these sudden transformations. The thing is that I rarely think; a crowd of small metamorphoses accumulate in me without my noticing it, and then, one fine day, a veritable revolution takes place. This is what has given my life such a jerky, incoherent aspect. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1207:Biliyorum. Bana tutku verecek herhangi bir şeye ya da kimseye artık rastlamayacağımı biliyorum. Birisini sevmeye kalkışmak, önemli bir işe girişmek gibidir, bilirsin. Enerji, kendini veriş, körlük ister. Hatta başlangıçta bir uçurumun üzerinden sıçramanın gerektiği bir an vardır. Düşünmeye kalkarsa atlayamaz insan. Bundan böyle artık bu gerekli sıçrayışı yapmayacağımı biliyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1208:There are also amateurs. These are secretaries, office workers, shopkeepers, people who listen to others in cafes: around forty they feel swollen, with an experience they can't get rid of. Luckily they've made children on whom they can pass it off. They would like to make us believe that their
past is not lost, that their memories are condensed, gently transformed into Wisdom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1209:But [your crime] will be there, one hundred times denied, always there, dragging itself behind you. Then you will finally know that you have committed your life with one throw of the die, once and for all, and there is nothing you can do but tug our crime along until your death. Such is the law, just and unjust, of repentance. Then we will see what will become of your young pride. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1210:In life man commits himself and draws his own portrait, outside of which there is nothing. No doubt this thought may seem harsh to someone who has not made a success of his life. But on the other hand, it helps people to understand that reality alone counts, and that dreams, expectations and hopes only serve to define a man as a broken dream, aborted hopes, and futile expectations. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1211:You and me are real people, operating in a real world. We are not figments of each other’s imagination. I am the architect of my own self, my own character and destiny. It is no use whingeing about what I might have been, I am the things I have done and nothing more. We are all free, completely free. We can each do any damn thing we want. Which is more than most of us dare to imagine. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1212:You didn't succeed. Well, what of that? There's nothing to prove, you know, and the revolution's not a question of virtue but of effectiveness. There is no heaven. There's work to be done, that's all. And you must do what you're cut out for; all the better if it comes easy to you. The best work is not the work that takes the most sacrifice. It's the work in which you can best succeed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1213:Cand aveam 20 de ani mă îmbătam şi pe urmă explicam că sunt un tip în genul lui Descartes. Simţeam că mă umflu de eroism, îmi dădeam frîu liber, îmi plăcea. După care, a doua zi, eram la fel de scîrbit ca şi cînd m-aş fi trezit într-un pat plin de vărsături. Ieri n-aveam nici măcar scuza beţiei. M-am exaltat ca un imbecil. Am nevoie să mă curăţ cu gînduri abstracte, transparente ca apa. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1214:From the very fact, indeed, that I am conscious of the motives which solicit my action, these motives are already transcendent objects from my consciousness, they are outside; in vain shall I seek to cling to them: I escape from them through my very existence. I am condemned to exist forever beyond my essence, beyond the affective and rational motives of my act: I am condemned to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1215:Men all alone, completely alone with horrible monstrosities, will run through the streets, pass heavily in front of me, their eyes staring, fleeing their ills yet carrying with them, open-mouthed, with their insect-tongue flapping its wings. Then I'll burst out laughing even though my body may be covered with filthy, infected scabs which blossom into flowers of flesh, violets, buttercups. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1216:Obviously, nothing new has happened in a manner of speaking. This morning, at a quarter past eight, as I was leaving the Hôtel Printania to go to the library, I tried to pick up a piece of paper lying on the ground and didn't succeed. That's all, and it isn't even an event. Yes, but, to tell the whole truth, it made a profound impression on me: it occurred to me that I was no longer free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1217:First, it has been charged with inviting people to remain in a kind of desperate quietism because, since no solutions are possible, we should have to consider action in this world as quite impossible. We should then end up in a philosophy of contemplation; and since contemplation is a luxury, we come in the end to a bourgeois philosophy. The communists in particular have made these charges. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1218:He seems to be a real enough character, and even tells us that he is thirty years old. Yet whenever Roquentin talks about his past, it has the studied randomness and the glamorous opacity of espionage. He is a spy from the world of nothingness. For instance, he talks carelessly about having been in an unlikely number of places: Shanghai, Moscow, Algiers, Meknes, Saigon, Aden, Hanoi, Angkor. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1219:INEZ: Prove it. Prove it was no dream. It’s what one does, and nothing else, that shows the stuff one's made of.
GARCIN: I died too soon. I wasn't allowed time to - to do my deeds.
INEZ: One always dies too soon - or too late. And yet one's whole life is complete at that moment, with a line drawn neatly under it, ready for the summing up. You are - your life, and nothing else. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1220:He yawned; he had finished the day, and he had also finished with his youth. Various tried and proved rules of conduct had already discreetly offered him their services: disillusioned epicureanism, smiling tolerance, resignation, flat seriousness, stoicism--all the aids whereby a man may savor, minute by minute, like a connoisseur, the failure of a life... 'I have attained the age of reason. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1221:I have crossed seas, left cities behind me, followed the course of rivers or plunged into forests, always making my way towards other cities. I have had women, I have fought with men; and never was I able to turn back, any more than a record can be reversed. And all that led me—where? At this very instant, on this bench, in this translucent bubble all humming with music. And when you leave me ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1222:In the past - even a long while after she left me - I thought of Anny. Now I think of no one any more. I don't even bother looking for words. It flows in me, more or less quickly. I fix nothing, I let it go. Through the lack of attaching myself to words, my thoughts remain nebulous most of the time. They sketch vague, pleasant shapes and then are swallowed up: I forget them almost immediately. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1223:In the nineteenth century one had to give all sorts of guarantees and lead an exemplary life in order to cleanse oneself in the eyes of the bourgeois of the sin of writing, for literature is, in essence, heresy. The situation has not changed except that it is now the Communists, that is, the qualified representatives of the proletariat, who as a matter of principle regard the writer as suspect. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1224:Happiness has to be installed in each person as a state of affairs completely cut off from the process that brought it about and, in particular, from the real situation. Man has to be affected with happiness. It is a tonality given to him. Contradiction: if one does take care to give him happiness, it is because he is a free creature--but in order to give it to him, one turns him into an object. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1225:One thus arrives at a curious conception of thought. Thought has no real, concrete existence, accessible to immediate consciousness, since the datum of introspection is the image. It has no universality in act, because, if it were so, one should be able to grasp it directly. But it is a potential universality that one derives from the fact that a word can be accompanied by very different images. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1226:This profound interest which she brings to my eternal essence and her total indifference to all that can happen to me in this life—and then this curious affectation, at once charming and pedantic—and this way of suppressing from the very outset all the mechanical formulas of politeness, friendship, all that makes relationships between people easier, forever obliging her partners to invent a rôle. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1227:In Germany, Martin Heidegger turned against his former mentor Edmund Husserl, but later Heidegger's friends and colleagues turned their backs on him. In France, Gabriel Marcel attacked Jean-Paul Sartre, Sartre fell out with Camus, Camus fell out with Merleau-Ponty, Merleau-Ponty fell out with Sartre, and the Hungarian intellectual Arthur Koestler fell out with everyone and punched Camus in the street. ~ Sarah Bakewell, #NFDB
1228:I do not cease to experience my being-for-others; my possibilities do not cease to “die”, nor do the distances cease to unfold toward me in terms of the stairway where somebody “could” be, in terms of this dark corner where a human presence “could” hide. Better yet, if I tremble at the slightest noise, if each creak announces to me a look, this is because I am already in the state of being-looked-at. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1229:Perhaps it is impossible to understand one’s own face. Or perhaps it is because I am a single man? People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? You might say—yes you might say, nature without humanity. I have no taste for work any longer, I can do nothing more except wait for night. 5.30: ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1230:-Widzi pan, że ich pan nie kocha, tych dwojga. Może nie potrafiłby ich pan nawet rozpoznać na ulicy. Stanowią dla pana tylko symbole. Nie nad nimi się pan teraz rozczula: rozczula się pan nad Młodością Człowieka, nad Miłością Mężczyzny i Kobiety, mad Głosem ludzkim.
-I co z tego, czy to nie istnieje?
-Oczywiście,że nie, to nie istnieje. Ani Młodość, ani Wiek dojrzały, ani Starość, ani Śmierć... ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1231:Creo que soy yo quien ha cambiado; es la solución más simple. También la más desagradable. Pero debo reconocer que estoy sujeto a estas súbitas transformaciones. Lo que ocurre es que rara vez pienso, entonces, sin darme cuenta, se acumula en mí una multitud de pequeñas metamorfosis, y un buen día se produce una verdadera revolución. Es lo que ha dado a mi vida este aspecto desconcertante, incoherente. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1232:In Avenue Foch, however, in the Rue des Saussaies, we would hear from neighboring buildings, all day long and late into the night, cries of suffering and terror. There was nobody in Paris who did not have a relative or friend arrested or deported or shot. It appeared that there were hidden holes in the city and that it emptied itself through these holes as if from an internal and incurable hemorrhage. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1233:One can ask why the I has to appear in the cogito {Descartes’ argument “I think therefore I am.}, since the cogito, if used rightly, is the awareness of pure consciousness, not directed at any fact or action. In fact the I is not necessary here, since it is never united directly to consciousness. One can even imagine a pure and self-aware consciousness which thinks of itself as impersonal spontaneity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1234:Un homme s’engage dans sa vie, dessine sa figure, et en dehors de cette figure, il n’y a rien. Évidemment, cette pensée peut paraître dure à quelqu’un qui n’a pas réussi sa vie. Mais d’autre part, elle dispose les gens à comprendre que seule compte la réalité, que les rêves, les attentes, les espoirs permettent seulement de définir un homme comme rêvé déçu , comme espoir avorté, comme attente inutile. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1235:I felt that the success of the enterprise was in my hands: the moment had an obscure meaning which had to be trimmed and perfected ; certain motions had to be made, certain words spoken : I staggered under the weight of my responsibility. I started and saw nothing, I struggled in the midst of rites which were invented on the spot and tore them to shreds with my strong arms. At those times she hated me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1236:Something has happened to me, I can't doubt it anymore. It came as an illness does, not like an ordinary certainty, not like anything evident. It came cunningly, little by little; I felt a little strange, a little put out, that's all. Once established it never moved, it stayed quiet, and i was able to persuade myself that nothing was the matter with me, that it was a false alarm. And now, it's blossoming. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1237:Something has happened to me, I can't doubt it any more. It came as an illness does, not like an ordinary certainty, not like anything evident. It came cunningly, little by little; I felt a little strange, a little put out, that's all. Once established it never moved, it stayed quiet, and I was able to persuade myself that nothing was the matter with me, that it was a false alarm. And now, it's blossoming. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1238:. This is also true of Jean-Paul Sartre. Indeed, one of Sartre’s best-known literary works can be shown to embody Nietzsche’s ideas: the ethic of The Flies differs sharply from Sartre’s own Being and Nothingness, finished at the same time, and from his famous lecture, Existentialism Is a Humanism, but contains dozens of echoes of Nietzsche’s writings, and the central motifs of the play are Nietzschean.1 ~ Friedrich Nietzsche, #NFDB
1239:I exist. It's sweet, so sweet, so slow. And light: you'd think it floated all by itself. It stirs. It brushes by me, melts and vanishes. Gently, gently. There is bubbling water in my throat, it caresses me- and now it comes up again into my mouth. For ever I shall have a little pool of whitish water in my mouth - lying low - grazing my tongue. And this pool is still me. And the tongue. And the throat is me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1240:İnsan, insanlara var olmadıklarını inandırmak için bir felsefe incelemesine güvenemezdi. Bunun bir eylem olması gerekiyordu, gerçekten öylesine umutsuz bir eylem ki görüntüleri silsin götürsündü ve dünyanın hiçliğini gün ışığına göstersindi.
Bir patlama, kan içinde genç bir beden halının üstünde, bir kağıda yazılmış sözcükler: Kendimi öldürüyorum, çünkü var değilim. Ve siz de insan kardeşlerim, hiçsiniz! ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1241:I grow warm, I begin to feel happy. There is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of Nausea: it spreads at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of out time - the time of purple suspenders, and broken chair seats; it is made of white, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain. No sooner than born, it is already old, it seems as though I have known it for twenty years. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1242:Non. Je ne manque nulle part, je ne laisse pas de vide. Les métros sont bondés, les restaurants comblés, les têtes bourrées à craquer de petits soucis. J'ai glissé hors du monde et il est resté plein. Comme un œuf. Il faut croire que je n'étais pas indispensable. J'aurais voulu être indispensable. A quelque chose ou à quelqu'un. A propos, je t'aimais. Je te le dis à présent parce que ça n'a plus d'importance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1243:Madame Picard believed that a child should be allowed to read anything: 'A book never does any harm if it is well written.' While she was there, I had once asked permission to read Madame Bovary and my mother, in an oversweet voice, had said: 'But if my darling reads books like that at his age, what will he do when he grows up?' 'I shall live them!' This reply had met with the most complete and lasting success. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1244:Yalnızım. İnsanların çoğu evlerine girdiler. Biten bir pazarın ağızlarında bıraktığı tatla, daha şimdiden bir sonraki pazarı düşünüyorlar. Benim içinse ne pazar var, ne de pazartesi.
Karanlıklar içinde birbirini iteleyen günler ve birde bunun gibi şimşekler var.
Değişen hiçbir şey yok, ama yine de her şey başka biçimde varolup gidiyor. Anlatamam. Yazamam. Bulantıya benziyor. Ama aynı zaman onun tam tersi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1245:And every man ought to say to himself, “Am I really the kind of man who has the right to act in such a way that humanity might guide itself by my actions?” And if he does not say that to himself, he is masking his anguish. There is no question here of the kind of anguish which would lead to quietism, to inaction. It is a matter of a simple sort of anguish that anybody who has had responsibilities is familiar with. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1246:Een mens engageert zich in zijn leven, krijgt daarin gestalte en buiten die gestalte is er niets. Voor iemand die in zijn leven niet geslaagd is, moet dat natuurlijk een harde gedachte zijn. Maar anderzijds stelt ze de mensen in staat te begrijpen dat alleen de werkelijkheid telt, dat dromen, afwachten en hopen een mens tot niet meer dan een teleurgestelde droom, een vervlogen hoop, een vergeefse verwachting maken. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1247:At the age of twenty, without experience or advice, my mother was torn between two moribund creatures. Her marriage of convenience found its truth in sickness and mourning... Upon the death of my father, Anne-Marie and I awoke from a common nightmare. I got better. But we were both victims of a misunderstanding: she returned lovingly to the child she had never left; I regained consciousness in the lap of a stranger. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1248:Yeryüzünde şu serüven duygusu kadar bağlı olduğum başka şey yok belki. Ama bu duygu istediği zaman geliyor, sonra hemen kaçıp gidiyor. Gittiği zaman nasıl bomboş kalıyorum. Yoksa hayatımı boşa harcadığımı anlatmak için mi bu kısa ve alaycı ziyaretleri yapıyor bana?
Ardımda, kentin içinde, geniş ve dümdüz yollarda, lambaların soğuk aydınlığında, yaman bir toplumsal olay can çekişiyordu, pazar gününün bitişiydi bu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1249:First, we must face that unexpected revelation, the strip-tease of our humanism. There you can see it, quite naked, and it's not a pretty sight. It was nothing but an ideology of lies, a perfect justification for pillage; its honeyed words, its affection of sensibility were only alibis for our aggressions. A fine sight they are too, the believers in non-violence, saying that they are neither executioners nor victims. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1250:For instance, there is something new about my hands, a certain way of picking up my pipe or
fork. Or else it's the fork which now has a certain way of having itself picked up, I don't know. A little while ago, just as I was coming into my room, I stopped short because I felt in my hand a cold object which held my attention through a sort of personality. I opened my hand, looked: I was simply holding the door-knob. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1251:Voici ce que j'ai pensé : pour que l'événement le plus banal devienne une aventure, il faut et il suffit qu'on se mette à la raconter. C'est ce qui dupe les gens : un homme, c'est toujours un conteur d'histoires, il vit entouré de ses histoires et des histoires d'autrui, il voit tout ce qui lui arrive à travers elles ; et il cherche à vivre sa vie comme s'il la racontait.
Mais il faut choisir : vivre ou raconter. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1252:Į žmones reikia žiūrėti iš aukštai. Būdavo, užgesinu šviesą ir atsistoju prie lango: jie nė neįtaria, kad juos galima stebėti ir iš viršaus. Jie rūpinasi savo priekiu, kartais užpakaliu, bet visi jų triukai skirti metro setyniasdešimties centimetrų ūgio žiūrovui. O ar kas nors kada pagalvojo, kaip atrodo katiliuko formos kepurė žvelgiant iš septinto aukšto? <...> Vieną vakarą man toptelėjo mintis pašaudyti į žmones. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1253:Parece inevitable, tan fuerte es la necesidad de esta música; nada puede interrumpirla, nada que venga del tiempo donde está varado el mundo; cesará sola, por orden. Esta hermosa voz me gusta sobre todo, no por su amplitud ni su tristeza, sino porque es el acontecimiento que tantas notas han preparado desde lejos, muriendo para que ella nazca. Y sin embargo, estoy inquieto; bastaría tan poco para que el disco se detuviera. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1254:Ik krijg niet de indruk dat de Autodidact zin heeft om te praten. Wat kijkt hij me vreemd aan: hij kijkt niet om iets te zien, maar om een soort zielsgemeenschap tot stand te brengen. De ziel van de Autodidact is omhooggestegen en in in zijn fraaie, nietsziende ogen aan de oppervlakte gekomen. Hij wil dat mijn ziel hetzelfde doet, dat ze haar neus tegen de ruiten zal drukken: dan kunnen onze zielen beleefdheden uitwisselen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1255:Maurice'in canı yürüyüşe devam etmek istemiyordu, bir şey kırmaktan korkuyordu, hem sonra bu yol bir yere götürmüyordu insanı, yönü yoktu; insanlar vardı, bulvarlara doğru yürüyorlardı; insanlar vardı, Seine kıyısına doğru iniyorlardı ve burunları vitrin camlarına yapışık, kımıldamadan duranlar vardı. Bu insanlar yer yer kalabalık yapıyordu, ama bütünün, beraberliğin hareketi yoktu burada, insan kendini yalnız hissediyordu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1256:I don't know where to go, I stay planted in front of the cardboard chef. I don't need to turn around to know they are watching me through the windows: they are watching my back with surprise and disgust; they thought I was like them, that I was a man, and I deceived them. I suddenly lost the appearance of a man and they saw a crab running backwards out of this human room. Now the unmasked intruder has fled: the show goes on. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1257:[M]an is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, in other respect is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. The Existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which fatally leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1258:There’s the story of a person who does this, does that, but it isn’t I, I have nothing in common with him. He travels through countries I know no more about than if I had never been there. Sometimes, in my story, it happens that I pronounce these fine names you read in atlases, Aranjuez or Canterbury. New images are born in me, images such as people create from books who have never travelled. My words are dreams, that is all. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1259:If existence really does precede essence, there is no explaining things away by reference to a fixed and given human nature. In other words, there is no determinism, man is free, man is freedom. On the other hand, if God does not exist, we find no values or commands to turn to which legitimize our conduct. So, in the bright realm of values, we have no excuse behind us, nor justification before us. We are alone, with no excuses. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1260:Yüzümün yansısı bu. Yapacak işim olmadığı günlerde onu seyreder dururum. Gördüğüm bu yüzden hiçbir şey anlamıyorum. Başkalarının yüzleri bir anlam taşıyor. Benimki öyle değil. Güzel mi yoksa çirkin mi, bunu bile söyleyemem. Çirkin galiba. Çünkü öyle olduğunu söylediler. Bana dokunan bu değil. Yüzüme böyle nitelikler verilebilmesine şaşıyorum aslında. Bir toprak parçasına ya da bir kayaya güzel ya da çirkin demek gibi bir şey bu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1261:And then, tired out by all the shouting, I always simply went to bed. Today I’m doing it to feel the pleasure you don’t yet know, of turning abruptly from friendship to love, from strength to tenderness. Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1262:O existencialismo não é tanto um ateísmo no sentido em que se esforçaria por demonstrar que Deus não existe. Ele declara, mais exatamente: mesmo que Deus existisse, nada mudaria; eis o nosso ponto de vista. Não que acreditemos que deus exista, mas pensamos que o problema não é o da sua existência; é preciso que o homem se reencontre e se convença de que nada pode salvá-lo dele próprio, nem mesmo uma prova válida da existência de Deus. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1263:Je crois que c'est moi qui ai changé: c'est la solution la plus simple. La plus désagréable aussi. Mais einfin je dois reconnaître que je suis sujet à ces transformations soudaines. Ce qu'il y a, c'est que je pense très rarement; alors une foule depetites métamorphoses s'accumulent en moi sans que j'y prenne garde et puis, un beau jour, il se produit une véritable révolution. C'est ce qui a donné à ma vie cet aspect huerté, incohérent. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1264:E ora şapte şi jumătate, nu mi-e foame şi filmul începe abia la nouă; ce-aş putea face? Trebuie să merg repede, ca să mă încălzesc. Ezit: în spatele meu bulevardul duce în inima oraşului, către podoabele de foc ale străzilor centrale, la Palatul Paramount, la Imperial, la Marile Magazine Jahan. Nu mă atrage deloc: e ora aperitivului; fiinţele, cânii, oamenii, toate aceste mase moi care se mlşcă spontan, le-am văzut destul pentru moment. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1265:These young people amaze me; drinking their coffee, they tell clear, plausible stories. If you ask them what they did yesterday, they don't get flustered; they tell you all about it in a few words. If I were in their place, I'd start stammering. It's true that for a long time now nobody has bothered how I spend my time. When you live alone, you even forget what it is to tell a story : plausibility disappears at the same time as friends. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1266:İyi ki çocuk yapmışlardır. Çocukları deneylerini hemen oracıkta harcamalarına neden olur. Geçmişlerinin boşa gitmediğine, anılarının bir araya gelerek bilgelik haline ağır ağır dönüştüğüne inandırmak isterler sizi. Kullanışlı geçmiş! Cep geçmişi; güzelim özdeyişlerle dolu, küçücük yaldızlı kitap! "İnanın bana, deneyimlerime dayanarak konuşuyorum. Bütün bildiğimi hayattan öğrendim." Hayat, onlar için düşünmek sorumluluğunu üzerine alır mı? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1267:And I too wanted to be. That is all I wanted; and this is the last word. At the bottom of all these attempts which seemed without bounds, I find the same desire again: to drive existence out of me, to rid the passing moments of their fat, to twist them, dry them, purify myself, harden myself, to give back at last the sharp, precise sound of a saxophone note. That could even make an apologue: there was a poor man who got in the wrong world. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1268:As for the square at Meknes, where I used to go every day, it's even simpler: I do not see it at all anymore. All that remains is the vague feeling that it was charming, and these five words that are indivisibly bound together: a charming square at Meknes. ... I don't see anything any more: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1269:It is not right, my fellow-countrymen, you who know very well all the crimes committed in our name. It's not at all right that you do not breathe a word about them to anyone, not even to your own soul, for fear of having to stand in judgment of yourself. I am willing to believe that at the beginning you did not realize what was happening; later, you doubted whether such things could be true; but now you know, and still you hold your tongues. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1270:France is going to endure, and I’ll tell you [ISIS people who attacked Paris ] why. If you’re in a war of culture and lifestyle with France, good fucking luck, because go ahead, bring your bankrupt ideology. They’ll bring Jean-Paul Sartre, Edith Piaf, fine wine, Camus, Camembert, madeleines, macarons, Marcel Proust and the fucking croquembouche. You just brought a philosophy of rigorous self-abnegation to a pastry fight, my friend. You are fucked. ~ John Oliver, #NFDB
1271:I exist. It's sweet, so sweet, so slow. And light: you'd think it floated all by itself. It stirs. It brushes by me, melts and vanishes. Gently, gently. There is bubbling water in my mouth. I swallow. It slides down my throat, it caresses me — and now it comes up again into my mouth. For ever I shall have a little pool of whitish water in my mouth - lying low - grazing my tongue. And this pool is still me. And the tongue. And the throat is me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1272:Anny hasn't changed her letter paper, I wonder if she still buys it at the little stationer's in Piccadilly. I think that she has also kept her coiffure, her heavy blonde locks she didn't want to cut. She must struggle patiently in front of mirrors to save her face: it isn't vanity or fear of growing old; she wants to stay as she is, just as she is. Perhaps this is what I liked best in her, this austere loyalty to her most insignificant features. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1273:But for me there is neither Monday nor Sunday: there are days which pass in disorder, and then, sudden lightning like this one. Nothing has changed and yet everything is different. I can't describe it, it's like the Nausea and yet it's just the opposite: at last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits in the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1274:Cînd aveam douăzeci de ani mă îmbătam şi pe urmă explicam că sînt un tip în genul lui Descartes. Simţeam că mă umflu de eroism, îmi dădeam frîu liber, îmi plăcea. După care, a doua zi, eram la fel de scîrbit ca şi cînd m-aş fi trezit într-un pat plin de vărsături. Nu vomit cînd mă îmbăt, dar poate ar fi mai bine s-o fac. Ieri n-aveam nici măcar scuza beţiei. M-am exaltat ca un imbecil. Am nevoie să mă curăţ cu gînduri abstracte, transparente ca apa. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1275:Every human reality is a passion in that it projects losing itself so as to found being and by the same stroke to constitute the In-itself which escapes contingency by being its own foundation, the Ens causa sui,
which religions call God. Thus the passion of man is the reverse of that of Christ, for man loses himself as man in order that God may be born. But the idea of God is contradictory and we lose ourselves in vain. Man is a useless passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1276:I exist. It’s sweet, so sweet, so slow. And light: you’d think it floated all by itself. It stirs. It
brushes by me, melts and vanishes. Gently, gently. There is bubbling water in my mouth. I
swallow. It slides down my throat, it caresses me—and now it comes up again into my mouth.
For ever I shall have a little pool of whitish water in my mouth—lying low—grazing my tongue.
And this pool is still me. And the tongue. And the throat is me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1277:I had been playing with matches and burned a small rug. I was in the process of covering up my crime when suddenly God saw me. I felt His gaze inside my head and on my hands....I flew into a rage against so crude an indiscretion, I blasphemed....He never looked at me again....I had the more difficulty getting rid of Him the Holy Ghost in that He had installed Himself at the back of my head....I collared the Holy Ghost in the cellar and threw Him out. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1278:I marvel at these young people: drinking their coffee, they tell clear, plausible stories. If they are asked what they did yesterday, they aren't embarrassed: they bring you up to date in a few words. If I were in their place, I'd fall over myself. It's true that no one has bothered about how I spend my time for a long while. When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell something: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1279:It is the reflection of my face. Often in these lost days I study it. I can understand nothing of this face. The faces of others have some sense, some direction. Not mine. I cannot even decide whether it is handsome or ugly. I think it is ugly because I have been told so. But it doesn't strike me. At heart, I am even shocked that anyone can attribute qualities of this kind to it, as if you called a clod of earth or a block of stone beautiful or ugly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1280:It is the reflection of my face. Often in these lost days I study it: I can understand nothing of this face. The faces of others have some sense, some direction. Not mine. I cannot even decide whether it is handsome or ugly. I think it is ugly because I have been told so. But it doesn't strike me. At heart, I am even shocked that anyone can attribute qualities of this kind to it, as if you called a clod of earth or a block of stone beautiful or ugly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1281:I am beginning to believe that nothing can ever be proved. These are honest hypotheses which take the facts into account: but I sense so definitely that they come from me, and that they are simply a way of unifying my own knowledge. Not a glimmer comes from Rollebon's side. Slow, lazy, sulky, the facts adapt themselves to the rigour of the order I wish to give them; but it remains outside of them. I have the feeling of doing a work of pure imagination. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1282:L'existentialiste, au contraire, pense qu'il est très gênant que Dieu n'existe pas, car avec lui disparaît toute possibilité de trouver des valeurs dans un ciel intelligible; il ne peut plus y avoir de bien a priori, puisqu'il n'y a pas de conscience infinie et parfaite pour le penser; il n'est écrit nulle part que le bien existe, qu'il faut être honnête, qu'il ne faut pas mentir, puisque précisément nous sommes sur un plan où il y a seulement des hommes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1283:I can't honestly say where the inspiration for my work came from. I think it came from reading. It came from texts, from Nietzsche, Schopenhauer, it came from, you know, Jean-Paul Sartre. These are the ideas that got me worked up and inspired. It wasn't so much the visual things that inspired me. Although, of course, there were plenty of painters in history that I admired all the way from Brueghel to Goya, to Picasso - because everything visual stimulates me. ~ Lebbeus Woods, #NFDB
1284:Well, you're free without wanting to be,' he explained, 'it just happens so, that's all. But Mathieu's freedom is based on reason.'
'I still don't understand,' said Lola, shaking her head.
'Well, he doesn't care a curse about his apartment: he lives there just as he would live anywhere else, and I've got the feeling that he doesn't care much about his girl. He stays with her because he must sleep with someone. His freedom isn't visible, it's inside him. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1285:Existentialism is not atheist in the sense that it would exhaust itself in demonstrations of the non-existence of God. It declares, rather, that even if God existed that would make no difference from its point of view. Not that we believe God does exist, but we think that the real problem is not that of His existence; what man needs is to find himself again and to understand that nothing can save him from himself, not even a valid proof of the existence of God. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1286:Gülünç...hayır, oraya kadar varamıyordu bile; var olan hiçbir şey gülünç olamaz; bu durum kimi vodvillerdeki belli durumları çok uzaktan yarım yamalak andırıyordu. Bir yığın tedirgin, kendinden sıkılmış var olandan başka bir şey değildik. Burada bulunmamız için tek bir neden yoktu, hiçbirimiz böyle bir neden ileri süremezdi. Utanç içinde bulunan ve belirsiz bir tedirginlik duyan her var olan, ötekilerin karşısında kendini fazlalık olarak hissediyordu. Fazlalık. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1287:We still have not defined the intellectual yet: all we have are technicians of practical knowledge who either accommodate themselves to their contradiction or manage to avoid suffering from it. But when one of them becomes aware of the fact that despite the universality of his work it serves only particular interests, then his awareness of this contradiction - what Hegel called an 'unhappy consciousness' - is precisely what characterizes him as an intellectual. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1288:The self is who we truly are, but the persona or mask (the word comes from the Latin for an actor’s mask) is the face we turn to the world in order to deal with it. A persona is absolutely necessary, but the problem is that we often become identified with it, to the detriment of our self, a dilemma that the existential philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre recognized in his notion of mauvaise foi, or “bad faith,” when one becomes associated exclusively with one’s social role. ~ Gary Lachman, #NFDB
1289:Czy miał pan dużo przygód?"
Odpowiadam machinalnie:
"Trochę." i rzucam się do tyłu, żeby uniknąć jego zionącego oddechu.
Tak, powiedziałem to machinalnie, bez zastanowienia.
Zazwyczaj jestem rzeczywiście raczej dumny, że miałem tyle przygód. Ale dzisiaj, ledwo
wymówiłem te słowa, zdjęło mnie wielkie oburzenie na siebie: zdaje mi się już że kłamię, że
przez całe życie nie miałem najmniejszej przygody, lub raczej że nie wiem, co oznacza to
słowo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1290:A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing. To be sure, this may seem a harsh thought to someone whose life hasn't been a success. But, on the other hand, it prompts people to understand that reality alone is what counts, that dreams, expectations, and hopes warrant no more than to define a man as a disappointed dream, as miscarried hopes, as vain expectations. In other words, to define him negatively and not positively. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1291:I had thought out this sentence, at first it had been a small part of myself. Now it was inscribed
on the paper, it took sides against me. I didn’t recognize it any more. I couldn’t conceive it
again. It was there, in front of me; in vain for me to trace some sign of its origin. Anyone could
have written it. But I ... I wasn’t sure I wrote it. The letters glistened no longer, they were dry.
That had disappeared too; nothing was left but their ephemeral spark. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1292:Understand me: I wish to be a man from somewhere, a man among men. You see, a slave, when he passes by, weary and surly, carrying a heavy load, limping along and looking down at his feet, only at his feet to avoid falling down; he is in his town, like a leaf in greenery, like a tree in a forest, argos surrounds him, heavy and warm, full of herself; I want to be that slave, Electra, I want to pull the city around me and to roll myself up in it like a blanket. I will not leave. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1293:We will freedom for freedom’s sake, in and through particular circumstances. And in thus willing freedom, we discover that it depends entirely upon the freedom of others and that the freedom of others depends upon our own. Obviously, freedom as the definition of a man does not depend upon others, but as soon as there is a commitment, I am obliged to will the liberty of others at the same time as my own. I cannot make liberty my aim unless I make that of others equally my aim. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1294:Paris was dead. More cars, more pedestrians—except at certain hours in certain quarters. We walked between the cobblestones; it appeared that we were the forgotten members of an immense exodus. A bit of provincial life was caught on the sharp angles of the capital; it remained a skeleton city, pompous and immobile, too long and too big for us: too large, the streets that we discovered as far as the eye could see, too great the distances, too vast the perspectives: we got lost. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1295:Temporality is obviously an organised structure, and these three so-called elements of time: past, present, future, must not be envisaged as a collection of 'data' to be added together...but as the structured moments of an original synthesis. Otherwise we shall immediately meet with this paradox: the past is no longer, the future is not yet, as for the instantaneous present, everyone knows that it is not at all: it is the limit of infinite division, like the dimensionless point. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1296:J'ai commencé ma vie comme je la finirai sans doute : au milieu des livres. Dans le bureau de mon grand-père, il y en avait partout ; défense était de les faire épousseter sauf une fois l'an, avant la rentrée d'octobre. Je ne savais pas encore lire que, déjà, je les révérais, ces pierres levées : droites ou penchées, serrées comme des briques sur les rayons de la bibliothèque ou noblement espacées en allées de menhirs, je sentais que la prospérité de notre famille en dépendait... ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1297:Les Palestiniens n’ont pas d’autre choix, faute d’armes, de défenseurs, que le recours au terrorisme. (...) L’acte de terreur commis à Munich, ai-je dit, se justifiait à deux niveaux : d’abord, parce que tous les athlètes israéliens aux Jeux olympiques étaient des soldats, et ensuite, parce qu’il s’agissait d’une action destinée à obtenir un échange de prisonniers. Quoiqu’il en soit, nous savons désormais que tous, Israéliens et Palestiniens, ont été tués par la police allemande. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1298:When I was 15, I left school to start a magazine, and it became a success because I wouldn't take no for an answer. I remember banging on James Baldwin's door to ask for an interview when he came to England. Then I got Jean-Paul Sartre's home phone number and asked him to contribute. If I'd been 30, he might have said no, but I was a 15-year-old with passion and he was charmed. Making money was always just a side product of having a good time and creating things nobody'd seen before. ~ Richard Branson, #NFDB
1299:He loves me, he doesn't love my bowels, if they showed him my appendix in a glass he wouldn't recognize it, he's always feeling me, but if they put the glass in his hands he wouldn't touch it, he wouldn't think, "that's hers," you ought to love all of somebody, the esophagus, the liver, the intestines. Maybe we don't love them because we aren't used to them, but if we saw them the way we saw our hands and arms maybe we'd love them; the starfish must love each other better than we do. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1300:That is the idea I shall try to convey when I say that man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet, in other respects is free; because, once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. The existentialist does not believe in the power of passion. He will never agree that a sweeping passion is a ravaging torrent which fatally leads a man to certain acts and is therefore an excuse. He thinks that man is responsible for his passion. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1301:I dreamed vaguely of killing myself to wipe out at least one of these superfluous lives. But even my death would have been In the way. In the way, my corpse, my blood on these stones, between these plants, at the back of this smiling garden. And the decomposed flesh would have been In the way in the earth which would receive my bones, at last, cleaned, stripped, peeled, proper and clean as teeth, it would have been In the way: I was In the way for eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1302:The cards fall on the woollen cloth, spinning. The hands with ringed fingers come and pick them up, scratching the cloth with their nails. The hands make white splotches on the cloth, they look puffed up and dusty. Other cards fall, the hands go and come. What an odd occupation: it doesn’t look like a game or a rite, or a habit. I think they do it to pass the time, nothing more. But time is too large, it can’t be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1303:Ne kadar talihlisiniz! Söylenen doğruysa yolculuklar en iyi okuldur. Siz de böyle mi düşünüyorsunuz efendim?"
Anlamsız bir hareket yapıyorum. İyi ki sözünü bitirmedi.
"Kim bilir ne kadar şaşırır insan. Bir yolculuğa çıkabilseydim, döndüğümde ne kadar değiştimi anlamak için yola çıkmadan önce, kişiliğimin en ince ayrıntılarını not ederdim. Bazı gezginlerin, yolculuktan döndükten sonra, yakınları tarafından tanınmayacak kadar, hem ruhça, hem de vücutça değişmiş olduklarını okumuştum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1304:And without formulating anything clearly, I understood that I had found the key to Existence, the key to my Nauseas, to my own life. In fact, all that I could grasp beyond that returns to this fundamental absurdity. Absurdity: another word; I struggle against words; down there I touched the thing. But I wanted to fix the absolute character of this absurdity here. A movement, an event in the tiny coloured world of men is only relatively absurd: by relation to the accompanying circumstances. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1305:Arriving in Paris, many English and Americans are surprised to find us less thin than they imagined. They have seen the elegant dresses that appear to be new, the suits which, from afar, still seem fashionable; rarely have they encountered that paleness of face, that bodily decline that normally signifies starvation. Their solicitude, since it has been deceived, turns to rancor: I believe that they are dismayed not to find us conforming to the pathetic image they had formed of us in advance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1306:Étranger à moi-même, je sais. Hors nature, contre nature, sans excuse, sans autre recours qu'en moi. Mais je ne reviendrai pas sous ta loi: je suis condamné à n'avoir d'autre loi que la mienne. Je ne reviendrai pas à ta nature: mille chemins y sont tracés qui conduisent vers toi, mais je ne peux suivre que mon chemin. Car je suis un homme, Jupiter, et chaque homme doit inventer son chemin. La nature a horreur de l'homme, et toi, toi, souverain des Dieux, toi aussi tu as les hommes en horreur. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1307:The essential thing is contingency. I mean that, by definition, existence is not necessity. To exist is simply to be there; what exists appears, lets itself be encountered, but you can never deduce it...contingency is not an illusion, an appearance which can be dissipated; it is absolute, and consequently perfect gratuitousness. Everything is gratuitous, that park, this town, and myself. When you realise that, it turns your stomach over and everything starts floating about...; that is the Nausea. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1308:Camın öte tarafından bana baktıklarını görmek için dönmem gerekli değil. Şaşkınlık ve tiksintiyle sırtımı gözlerler şimdi; kendileri gibi bir kimse, bir insan olduğumu düşünüyorlardı, ama onları aldattım ben. Bir adam görünüşünü ansızın kaybettim; bu insansal salondan bir yengecin kıçın kıçın dışarı çıktığını gördüler. Maskesi düşmüş yabancı kaçtı artık, oyun devam ediyor. Ardımda bir yığın gözün ve korkuya kapılmış düşüncenin kaynayıp durduğunu düşünmek canımı sıkıyor.Sokağın öte yanına geçiyorum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1309:Susuyorum, zorla gülümsüyorum. Garson kız, üzerinde tebeşir rengi bir Camambert peyniri bulunan tabağı önüme koyuyor. Salono şöyle bir göz atıyorum ve içimi korkunç bir tiksinti kaplıyor. Ne işim var burada? Ne diye kalkıp Hümanizm üzerinde konuştum? Bu insanlar niçin burada? Neden yemek yiyorlar? Onların, varolduklarını bilmedikleri besbelli. Çıkmak her hangi bir yere gitmek istiyorum. Gerçekten kendi yerimi bulacağım, içine yerleşeceğim bir yere... Ama benim yerim diye bir şey yok; ben fazlalığım. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1310:Steden maken me bang. Maar waag je niet te ver buiten hun muren, want dan betreed je het domein van de Vegetatie. Over een afstand van vele kilometers is de Vegetatie opgerukt in de richting van de steden. Ze ligt op de loer. Als de stad dood is, neemt de vegetatie de macht over. Ze zal zich langs de muren omhoogslingeren en ze overwoekeren, ze zal in all hoeken en gaten doordringen en de stenen uit elkaar laten spatten; ze zal alle holen dichten en overal zullen groene vangarmen naar beneden hangen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1311:Şimdi'nin gerçek özü kendini açığa vuruyordu. Şimdi var olandı, şimdi olmayan hiçbir şey varoluşmuyordu. Geçmiş var olan bir şey değildi. Hem de hiç değildi. Ne eşyada hatta ne de düşüncemde varoluşuyordu. Kendi geçmişimin benden kaçmış olduğunu çoktan beri anlamıştım... İşi biten her olay, kendi kendine bir kutunun içine usulca giriyor ve fahri olay niteliğini alıyordu. Hiçliği düşünmek bu kadar zordu işte. Ama şimdi anladım, eşyanın, görünüşünü aşan bir varlığı yok. Onların ardında... hiçbir şey yok. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1312:The waitress does not move. In the glass her face seems to sleep. Her eyes are indeed open but they are only slits. That’s the way she is, she is never in a hurry to wait on customers, she always takes a moment to dream over their orders. She must allow herself the pleasure of imagining: I believe she’s thinking about the bottle she’s going to take from above the counter, the white label and red letters, the thick black syrup she is going to pour out: it’s a little as though she were drinking it herself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1313:Toca el jazz; no hay melodía, sólo notas, una miríada de breves sacudidas. No conocen reposo; un orden inflexible las genera y destruye; sin dejarles nunca tiempo para recobrarse, para existir por sí. Corren, se apiñan, me dan al pasar un golpe seco y se aniquilan. Me gustaría retenerlas, pero sé que si llegara a detener una, sólo quedaría entre mis dedos un sonido canallesco y languideciente. Tengo que aceptar su muerte; hasta debo querer esta muerte; conozco pocas impresiones más ásperas o más fuertes. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1314:For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, just notes, a myriad tiny tremors. The notes know no rest, an inflexibleorder gives birth to them then destroys them, without ever leaving them the chance to recuperate and exist for themselves.... I would like to hole them back, but I know that, if I succeeded in stooping one, there would only remain in may hand a corrupt and languishing sound. I must accept their death; I must even want that death: I know of few more bitter or intense impressions. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1315:INEZ: There...you know the way the catch larks - with a mirror? I'm your lark-mirror,my dear, and you can't escape me...There isn't any pimple, not a trace of one. So what about it? Suppose the mirror started telling lies? Or suppose I covered my eyes - as he is doing - and refused to look at you, all that loveliness of yours would be wasted on the desert air. No, don't be afraid, I can't help looking at you. I shan't turn my eyes away. AndI'll be nice to you, ever so nice. Only you must be nice to me too. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1316:She smiled. First I lost the memory of her eyes, then the memory of her long body. I kept her smile as long as possible and then, finally lost that three years ago. Just now, brusquely, as I was taking the letter from the landlady's hands, it came back to me; I thought I saw Anny smiling. I try to refresh my memory: I need to feel all the tenderness that Anny inspires; it is there, this tenderness, it is near me, only asking to be born. But the smile does not return: it is finished. I remain dry and empty. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1317:If I am not mistaken, if all the signs which have been amassed are precursors of a new overthrow in my life, well then I am terrified. It isn't that my life is rich, or weighty or precious. But I'm afraid of what will be born and take possession of me—and drag me—where? Shall I have to go off again, leaving my research, my book and everything else unfinished? Shall I awake in a few months, in a few years, broken, deceived, in the midst of new ruins? I would like to see the truth clearly before it is too late. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1318:It would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there's no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns...It goes, it goes ... and there's no end to it. It's worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1319:Many young people today do not concern themselves with style. They think that what one says should be said simply and that is all. For me, style - which does not exclude simplicity, quite the opposite - is above all a way of saying three or four things in one. There is the simple sentence, with its immediate meaning, and then at the same time, below this immediate meaning, other meanings are organized. If one is not capable of giving language this plurality of meaning, then it is not worth the trouble to write. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1320:Özgürüm: Hiçbir yaşama nedeni kalmadı artık bana; denediğim bütün nedenler beni bıraktı; başkalarını da tasarlayamıyorum. Daha genç sayılırım, yeniden başlamaya yetecek gücüm var. Ama nereden başlamalı? En şiddetli korkulara, bulantılara düştüğümde beni kurtarır diye Anny'ye ne kadar güvenmiş olduğumu ancak şimdi anlıyorum. Geçmişim öldü, Bay de Rollebon öldü, Anny sadece bütün umutlarımı kırmak için geri geldi. Bahçeler boyunca uzayan şu beyaz sokakta yalnızım. Yalnız ve özgür. Ama bu özgürlük ölüme benziyor biraz. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1321:Ve ben, ben de fazlalıktım. İyi ki hissetmiyordum bunu, daha çok anlıyordum. Ama içim rahat değildi, hissetmekten korkuyordum. Şu gereksiz hiç olmazsa birini ortadan kaldırmak için, canıma kıymayı düşünür gibi oluyordum. Ama ölümüm bile fazlalık olacaktı. Cesedim de ; şu güleç bahçenin dibinde, çınar ağaçlarının arasında, şu çakıl taşlarının üzerinde, kanım da fazlalık olacak; en sonunda, temizlenmiş, kabuğu çıakrılmış, dişler gibi temiz, ak pak kemiklerimde fazlalık olarak kalacaktı. Her zaman için fazlalıktım ben. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1322:It would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there's no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns
...
It goes, it goes ... and there's no end to it. It's worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1323:If I remember correctly, they call that the irreversibility of time. The feeling of adventure would simply be that of the irreversibility of time. But why don't we always have it? Is it that time is not always irreversible? There are moments when you have the impression that you can do what you want, go forward or backward, that it has no importance; and then other times when you might say that the links have been tightened and, in that case, it's not a question of missing your turn because you could never start again. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1324:This horror had many other causes as well. But before going further, we must avoid a misunderstanding: don’t think that it was overwhelming. As I have already said, we lived. What I mean is, we worked, ate, conversed, slept and at times even laughed – even if the laughter was rare. The horror appeared to be outside us, inherent in things. We could distract ourselves for moments at a time, becoming involved in a lecture, a conversation, a love affair; but we’d always return to ourselves and realize that it had not left us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1325:Then I realized what separated us: what I thought about him could not reach him; it was psychology, the kind they write about in books. But his judgment went through me like a sword and questioned my very right to exist. And it was true, I had always realized it; I hadn't the right to exist. I had appeared by chance, I existed like a stone, a plant or a microbe. My life put out feelers towards small pleasures in every direction. Sometimes it sent out vague signals; at other times I felt nothing more than a harmless buzzing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1326:J'aurai cru, moi, dit Jacques, que la liberté consistait à regarder en face les situations où l'on s'est mis de plein gré et à accepter toutes ses responsabilités. Mais çe n'est sans doute pas ton avis : tu condamnes la société capitaliste , et pourtant tu es fonctionnaire dans cette société, tu affiches une sympathie de principe pour les communistes : mais tu te gardes bien de t'engager, tu n 'as jamais voté. Tu méprises la classe bourgeoise et pourtant tu es bourgeois, fils et frère de bourgeois et tu vis comme un bourgeois. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1327:Gövde, bir kere yaşamaya başlayınca, bu işe kendi kendine devam eder. Ama düşünce öyle değil. Düşünceyi ben sürdürür, ben geliştiririm. Varoluşmaktayım. Varoluşmakta olduğumu düşünüyorum. Şu varoluşma duygusu ne kıvıl kıvıl bir şey! Onu ben sürdürüyorum yavaşça. Düşünmemi durdurabilseydim... Çabalıyorum buna, başarıyorum. Kafamın içi dumanla doluyor gibi... ama işte yeniden başladı. "Duman... düşünmemek... Düşünmemek istemiyorum. Düşünmek istemediğimi düşünüyorum. Düşünmek istemediğimi düşünmemem gerek." Bitmek bilmeyecek mi bu? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1328:Suspicious: that's what they were, the sounds, the smells, the tastes. When they ran quickly under your nose like startled hares and you didn't pay too much attention, you might believe them to be simple and reassuring, you might believe that there was real blue in the world, real red, a real perfume of almonds or violets. But as soon as you held on to them for an instant, this feeling of comfort and security gave way to a deep uneasiness: colours, tastes, and smells were never real, never themselves and nothing but
themselves. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1329:...I was the beginning, the middle and the end all rolled into one small boy, already old, already dead, here, in the shadows, between the stacks of plates higher than himself, and outside, very far away, in the cast and gloomy sunshine of glory. I was the particle at the beginning of its trajectory and the series of waves which flows back on it after it has struck the terminal buffer. Reassembled and compressed, one hand on my tomb and the other on my cradle, I felt brief and splendid, a flash of lightening swallowed up in darkness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1330:For a hundred dead stories there still remain one or two living ones. I evoke these with caution, occasionally, not too often, for fear of wearing them out, I fish one out, again I see the scenery, the characters, the attitudes. I stop suddenly: there is a flaw, I have seen a word pierce through the web of sensations. I suppose that this word will soon take the place of several images I love. I must stop quickly and think of something else; I don't want to tire my memories. In vain; the next time I evoke them a good part will be congealed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1331:For a hundred dead stories there still remain one or two living ones. I evoke these with caution, occasionally, not too often, for fear of wearing them out, I fish one out, again I see the scenery, the characters, the attitudes. I stop suddenly: there is a flaw, I have seen a word pierce through the web of sensations. I suppose that this word will soon take the place of several images I love. I must stop
quickly and think of something else; I don't want to tire my memories. In vain; the next time I evoke them a good part will be congealed. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1332:Obiectele n-ar trebui să înduioşeze, pentru că ele n-au viaţă. Te serveşti de ele, le pui la loc, trăieşti în mijlocul lor: sunt utile, nimic mai mult. Dar pe mine mă înduioşează, e insuportabil. Mi-e frică să intru în contact cu ele, ca şi cum ar fi nişte animale vii. Acum înţeleg: îmi amintesc mai bine ce-am simţit zilele trecute, pe malul mării, cînd ţineam în mînă piatra aceea. Era un fel de scîrbă dulceagă. Ce neplăcut era! Venea de la piatră, sunt sigur, trecea din piatră în mîinile mele. Da, asta e, chiar asta: un fel de greaţă în mîini. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1333:The doctor wasn't the one to let himself be hypnotized by an old madman on the verge of having his fit; one good blow, a few rough, lashing words, that's what they need. The doctor has experience. He is a professional in experience: doctors, priests, magistrates and army officers know men through and
through as if they had made them.
I am ashamed for M. Achille. We are on the same side, we should have stood up against them. But he left me, he went over to theirs: he honestly believes in experience. Not in his, not in mine. In Doctor Roge's. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1334:Sunday has left them with a taste of ashes and their thoughts are already turning towards Monday. But for me there is neither Monday nor Sunday: there are days which pass in disorder, and then, sudden lightning like this one.
Nothing has changed and yet everything is different. I can't describe it; it's like the Nausea and yet it's just the opposite: at last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1335:En vérité, la prompte retraite de mon père m'avait gratifié d'un « Œdipe » fort incomplet: pas de Sur-moi, d'accord, mais point d'agressivité non plus. Ma mère était à moi, personne ne m'en contestait la tranquille possession: j'ignorais la violence et la haine, on m'épargna ce dur apprentissage, la jalousie; faute de m'être heurté à ses angles, je ne connus d'abord la réalité que par sa rieuse inconsistance. Contre qui, contre quoi me serais-je révolté: jamais le caprice d'un autre ne s'était prétendu ma loi.Mourir n'est pas facile ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1336:And there is something that clutches the heart: the melody is absolutely untouched by this tiny coughing of the needle on the record. It is so far—so far behind. I understand that too: the disc is scratched and is wearing out, perhaps the singer is dead; I’m going to leave, I’m going to take my train. But behind the existence which falls from one present to the other, without a past, without a future, behind these sounds which decompose from day to day, peel off and slip towards death, the melody stays the same, young and firm, like a pitiless witness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1337:At heart, what disgusts me is having been so sublime last evening. When I was twenty I used to get drunk and then explain that I was a fellow in the style of Descartes. I knew I was inflating myself with heroism, but I let myself go, it pleased me. After that, the next morning I felt as sick as if I had awakened in a bed full of vomit. I never vomit when I’m drunk but that would really be better. Yesterday I didn’t even have the excuse of drunkenness. I got excited like an imbecile. I must wash myself clean with abstract thoughts, transparent as water. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1338:It looked like a colour, but also... like a bruise or a secretion, like an oozing-and something else, an odour, for example, it melted into the odour of wet earth, warm, moist wood, into a black odour that spread like varnish over this sensitive wood, in a flavour of chewed, sweet fibre. I did not simply see this black: sight is an abstract invention, a simplified idea, one of man's ideas. That black, amorphous, weakly presence, far surpassed sight, smell and taste. But this richness was lost in confusion and finally was no more because it was too much. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1339:Bref, il me jeta dans la littérature par le soin qu'il mit à m'en détourner : au point qu'il m'arrive aujourd'hui encore, de me demande, quand je suis de mauvaise humeur, si je n'ai pas consommé tant de jours et tant de nuits, couvert tant de feuillets de mon encre, jeté sur le marché tant de livres qui n'étaient souhaités par personne, dans l'unique et fol espoir de plaire à mon grand-père. Ce serait farce : à plus de cinquante ans, je me trouverais embarqué, pour accomplir les volontés d'un très vieux mort, dans une entreprise qu'il ne manquerait pas de désavouer. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1340:Absurd, irreducible; nothing — not even a profound and secret delirium of nature — could explain it. Obviously I did not know everything, I had not seen the seeds sprout, or the tree grow. But faced with this great wrinkled paw, neither ignorance nor knowledge was important: the world of explanations and reasons is not the world of existence. A circle is not absurd, it is clearly explained by the rotation of a straight segment around one of its extremities. But neither does a circle exist. This root, on the other hand, existed in such a way that I could not explain it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1341:GARCIN: This bronze. Yes, now's the moment; I'm looking at this thing on the mantelpiece, and I understand that I'm in hell. I tell you, everything's been thoughtout beforehand. They knew I'd stand at the fireplace stroking this thing of bronze, with all those eyes intent on me. Devouring me. What? Only two of you? I thought there were more; many more. So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the "burning marl." Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. HELL IS-OTHER PEOPLE! ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1342:I am afraid of cities. But you mustn’t leave them. If you go too far you come up against the vegetation belt. Vegetation has crawled for miles towards the cities. It is waiting. Once the city is dead, the vegetation will cover it, will climb over the stones, grip them, search them, make them burst with its long black pincers; it will blind the holes and let its green paws hang over everything. You must stay in the cities as long as they are alive, you must never penetrate alone this great mass of hair waiting at the gates; you must let it undulate and crack all by itself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1343:We speak more freely of our emotional complexes than of our material condition or of our socio-professional milieu; we prefer to ask ourselves about the homosexual component of our characters than about the history which has made us and which we have made. We too are victims and accomplices of alienation, reification, mystification. We too stagger beneath 'the weight of things said and done', of lies accepted and transmitted without belief. But we have no wish to know it. We are like sleepwalkers treading in a gutter, dreaming of our genitals rather than looking at our feet. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1344:I have never had adventures. Things have happened to me, events, incidents, anything you like. But no adventures. It isn't a question of words; I am beginning to understand. There is something to which I clung more than all the rest—without completely realizing it. It wasn't love. Heaven forbid, not glory, not money. It was ... I had imagined that at certain times my life could take on a rare and
precious quality... And naturally, everything
they tell about in books can happen in real life, but not in the same way. It is to this way of happening that I clung so tightly. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1345:I lean all my weight on the porcelain ledge, I draw my face closer until it touches the mirror. The eyes, nose, and mouth disappear. Nothing is left. Brown wrinkles show on each side of the feverish swelled lips, crevices, mole holes. A silky, white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I recognize the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me: I slip quietly off to sleep. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1346:Dans la rue des Blancs-Manteaux
Ils ont élevé des tréteaux
Et mis du son dans un seau
Et c'était un échafaud
Dans la rue des Blancs-Manteaux
Dans la rue des Blancs-Manteaux
Le bourreau s'est levé tôt
C'est qu'il avait du boulot
Faut qu'il coupe des généraux
Des évêques, des amiraux,
Dans la rue des Blancs-Manteaux
Dans la rue des Blancs-Manteaux
Sont v'nues des dames comme il faut
Avec de beaux affûtiaux
Mais la tête leur f'sait défaut
Elle avait roulé d'son haut
La tête avec le chapeau
Dans l'ruisseau des Blancs-Manteaux ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1347:I lean all my weight on the porcelain ledge, I draw my face closer until it touches the mirror. The eyes, nose and mouth disappear: nothing human is left. Brown wrinkles show on each side of the feverish swelled lips, crevices, mole holes. A silky white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I RECOGNIZE the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me: I slip quietly off to sleep. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1348:This feeling of adventure definitely does not come from events: I have proved it. It’s rather the way in which the moments are linked together. I think this is what happens: you suddenly feel that time is passing, that each instant leads to another, this one to another one, and so on; that each instant is annihilated, and that it isn’ t worth while to hold it back, etc., etc. And then you attribute this property to events which appear to you in the instants; what belongs to the form you carry over to the content. You talk a lot about this amazing flow of time but you hardly see it. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1349:I have reconsidered my thoughts of yesterday. I was completely dry: it made no difference to me whether there had been no adventures. I was only curious to know whether there could never he any.
This is what I thought: for the most banal even to become an adventure, you must (and this is enough) begin to recount it. This is what fools people: a man is always a teller of tales, he lives surrounded by his stories and the stories of others, he sees everything that happens to him through them; and he tries to live his own life as if he were telling a story.
But you have to choose: live or tell. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1350:Le bronze... (Il le caresse.) Eh bien, voici le moment. Le bronze est là, je le contemple et je comprends que je suis en enfer. Je vous dis que tout était prévu. Ils avaient prévu que je me tiendrais devant cette cheminée, pressant ma main sur ce bronze, avec tous ces regards sur moi. Tous ces regards qui me mangent... (ll se retourne brusquement.) Ha! vous n'êtes que deux? Je vous croyais beaucoup plus nombreuses. (Il rit.) Alors, c'est ça l'enfer. Je n'aurais jamais cru... Vous vous rappelez: le soufre, le bûcher, le gril... Ah! quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril: l'enfer, c'est les Autres. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1351:Birazdan yatacaklar. Biliyorlar bunu. Her biri bunu, ötekinin bildiğini de biliyor. Ama genç, temiz ve kibar oldukları, her biri kendisine ve karşısındakine duyduğu saygıyı sürdürmek istediği ve aşk ürkütülmemesi gereken şiirsel bir şey olduğu için, haftada birkaç kere balolara ya da lokantalara gidip o küçük törensel ve mekanik danslarını gösteriyorlar.
Zaman öldürmek gerekiyor zaten. İkisi de genç ve sıhhatli, daha otuz yılları var. Yattıkları zaman, hayatlarının sınırsız saçmalığını kapamak için başka bir şey bulmaları gerekecek. Peki... Kendi kendini aldatmak gerçekten kaçınılmaz bir şey mi? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1352:It's your weakness gives them their strength. Mark how they dare not speak to me. A nameless horror has descended on you, keeping us apart. And yet why should this be? What have you lived through that I have not shared? Do you imagine that my mother's cries will ever cease ringing in my ears? Or that my eyes will ever cease to see her great sad eyes, lakes of lambent darkness in the pallor of it will ever cease ravaging my heart? But what matter? I am free. Beyond anguish, beyond remorse. Free. And at one with myself. No, you must not loathe yourself, Electra. Give me your hand. I shall never forsake you. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1353:Tonight I love you in a way that you have not known in me: I am neither worn down by travels nor wrapped up in the desire for your presence. I am mastering my love for you and turning it inwards as a constituent element of myself. This happens much more often than I admit to you, but seldom when I’m writing to you. Try to understand me: I love you while paying attention to external things. At Toulouse I simply loved you. Tonight I love you on a spring evening. I love you with the window open. You are mine, and things are mine, and my love alters the things around me and the things around me alter my love. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1354:En la pared hay un agujero blanco, el espejo. Es una trampa. Sé que voy a dejarme atrapar. Ya está. La cosa gris acaba de aparecer en el espejo. Me acerco y la miro; ya no puedo irme. Es el reflejo de mi rostro. A menudo en estos días perdidos, me quedo contemplándolo. No comprendo nada en este rostro. Los de los otros tienen un sentido. El mío, no. Ni siquiera puedo decidir si es lindo o feo. Pienso que es feo, porque me lo han dicho. Pero no me sorprende. En el fondo, a mí mismo me choca que puedan atribuirle cualidades de ese tipo, como si llamaran lindo o feo a un montón de tierra o a un bloque de piedra. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1355:You cling so tightly to your purity, my lad! How terrified you are of sullying your hands. Well, go ahead then, stay pure! What good will it do, and why even bother coming here among us? Purity is a concept of fakirs and friars. But you, the intellectuals, the bourgeois anarchists, you invoke purity as your rationalization for doing nothing. Do nothing, don’t move, wrap your arms tight around your body, put on your gloves. As for myself, my hands
are dirty. I have plunged my arms up to the elbows in excrement and blood. And what else should one do? Do you suppose that it is possible to govern
innocently? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1356:For them it means something different. They have aged differently. They live in the midst of legacies, gifts, each piece of furniture holds a memory. Clocks, medallions, portraits, shells, paperweights, screens, shawls. They have closets full of bottles, stuffs,
old clothes, newspapers; they have kept everything. The past is a landlord's luxury.
Where shall I keep mine? You don't put your past in your pocket; you have to have a house. I have only my body: a man entirely alone, with his lonely body, cannot indulge in memories; they pass through him. I shouldn't complain: all I wanted was to be free. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1357:Kadının koyu renkli tatlı gözleri var. Delikanlının tunç rengi, hafif tüylü teni, irade gücü gösteren küçük, sevimli çenesi göze çarpıyor. Beni ilgilendirdikleri doğru ama biraz canımı da sıkıyorlar. Onları kendimden öyle uzak hissediyorum ki. Sıcaktan gevşiyorlar, yüreklerinde aynı hafif ve tatlı düş sürüp gidiyor. Tedirgin değiller, sarı duvarlara ve insanlara güvenle bakıyorlar, dünyayı şu haliyle iyi ve yerinde buluyorlar; her biri, belli bir süre için hayatının anlamını ötekinin hayatında buluyor. Yakında ikisinin tek bir hayatı olacak: ağır ve ılık bir hayat, anlamsız bir hayat. Ama bunun farkına varamayacaklar. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1358:I murmur: "It's a seat," a little like an exorcism. But the word stays on my lips: it refuses to go and put itself on the thing. It stays what it is, with its red plush, thousands of little red paws in the air, all still, little dead paws. This enormous belly turned upward, bleeding, inflated—bloated with all its dead paws, this belly floating in this car, in this grey sky, is not a seat. It could just as well be a dead donkey tossed about in the water, floating with the current, belly in the air in a great grey river, a river of floods; and I could be sitting on the donkey's belly, my feet dangling in the clear water. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1359:But a little while ago I made an experiment with the absolute or the absurd. This root—there was nothing in relation to which it was absurd. Oh, how can I put it in words? Absurd: in relation to the stones, the tufts of yellow grass, the dry mud, the tree, the sky, the green benches. Absurd, irreducible; nothing—not even a profound, secret upheaval of nature—could
explain it. Evidently I did not know everything, I had not seen the seeds sprout, or the tree grow. But
faced with this great wrinkled paw, neither ignorance nor knowledge was important: the world of explanations and reasons is not the world of existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1360:Aramızda ancak bir beğeni ayrımı olsaydı tedirgin etmeyecektim sizi. Ama her şey sizin yeteneğiniz varmış da benim yokmuş gibisine akıp gidiyor. Amerikanvari hazırlanmış ıstakozu sevip sevmemekte özgürüm, ama insanları sevmiyorsam bir zavallıyım ve günışığında bana yer yok. Onlar hayatın anlamını kendi tekellerine aldılar. Umarım ki
söylemek istediğimi anlıyorsunuz. Üstünde: insancıl olmayan buraya giremez yazılı kapıları otuz üç yıldır zorluyorum işte. Giriştiğim her şeyi bırakmak zorunda kaldım. Seçmek gerekiyordu: ya uyumsuz ve mahkûm edilmiş bir girişimi, ya da er-geç onların çıkarına yönelmesi gereken bir girişimi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1361:aramızda ancak bir beğeni ayrımı olsaydı tedirgin etmeyecektim sizi. ama her şey sizin yeteneğiniz varmış da benim yokmuş gibisine akıp gidiyor. amerikanvari hazırlanmış ıstakozu sevip sevmemekte özgürüm, ama insanları sevmiyorsam bir zavallıyım ve günışığında bana yer yok. onlar hayatın anlamını kendi tekellerine aldılar. umarım ki
söylemek istediğimi anlıyorsunuz. üstünde: insancıl olmayan buraya giremez yazılı kapıları otuz üç yıldır zorluyorum işte. giriştiğim her şeyi bırakmak zorunda kaldım. seçmek gerekiyordu: ya uyumsuz ve mahkûm edilmiş bir girişimi, ya da er-geç onların çıkarına yönelmesi gereken bir girişimi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1362:Suspicious: that’s what they were, the sounds, the smells, the tastes. When they ran quickly under your nose like startled hares and you didn’t pay too much attention, you might believe them to be simple and reassuring, you might believe that there was real blue in the world, real red, a real perfume of almonds or violets. But as soon as you held on to them for an instant, this feeling of comfort and security gave way to a deep uneasiness: colours, tastes, and smells were never real, never themselves and nothing but themselves. The simplest, most indefinable quality had too much content, in relation to itself, in its heart. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1363:Et puis, je me dédoublai. L'année précédente, quand je « faisais du cinéma », je jouais mon propre rôle, je me jetais à corps perdu dans l'imaginaire et j'ai pensé plus d'une fois m'y engouffrer tout entier. Auteur, le héros c'était encore moi, je projetais en lui mes rêves épiques. Nous étions deux, pourtant: il ne portait pas mon nom et je ne parlais de lui qu'à la troisième personne. Au lieu de lui prêter mes gestes, je lui façonnais par des mots un corps que je prétendis voir. Cette « distanciation » soudaine aurait pu m'effrayer: elle me charma; je me réjouis d'être lui sans qu'il fût tout à fait moi. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1364:The word absurdity is coming to life under my pen; a little while ago, in the garden, I couldn't find it,
but neither was I looking for it, I didn't need it: I thought without words, on things, with things.
Absurdity was not an idea in my head, or the sound of a voice, only this long serpent dead at my feet,
this wooden serpent. Serpent or claw or root or vulture's talon, what difference does it make. And
without formulating anything clearly, I understood that I had found the key to Existence, the key to my
Nauseas, to my own life. In fact, all that I could grasp beyond that returns to this fundamental
absurdity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1365:Someone must have scratched the record at that spot because it makes an odd noise. And there is something that clutches the heart: the melody is absolutely untouched by this tiny coughing of the needle on the record. It is so far—so far behind. I understand that too: the disc is scratched and is wearing out, perhaps the singer is dead; I’m going to leave, I’m going to take my train. But behind the existence which falls from one present to the other, without a past, without a future, behind these sounds which decompose from day to day, peel off and slip towards death, the melody stays the same, young and firm, like a pitiless witness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1366:Şu serüven duygusunun olaylardan gelmediği belli, kanıtlandı bu. Serüven duygusu, anların art arda geliş biçimine bağlı. Nasıl olduğunu anlatayım. Zamanın akıp gittiğini, bir anın ötekine, onun bir başkasına götürdüğünü, her anın kaybolup gittiğini, onu durdurmaya kalkmanın boş olduğunu vb. ansızın hissederiz. O zaman serüven özelliği, anların içinde ortaya çıkan olaylara veririz. Yani, biçimin malı olanı öze veririz. Şu durmadan sözü edilen zaman akışını pek gördüğümüz yoktur. Bir kadın görürüz, ihtiyarlayacağını düşünürüz, ama ihtiyarladığını görmeyiz. Ara sıra kadının ihtiyarladığını görüyoruz gibi gelir bize. İşte serüven duygusu budur. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1367:the humanist philosopher who bends over his brothers like an elder brother who is conscious of his responsibilities; the humanist who loves men as they are, the one who loves them as they ought to be, the one who wants to save them with their consent, and the one who will save them in spite of themselves, the one who wants to create myths, and the one who is satisfied with the old myths, the one who loves man for his death, the one who loves man for his life, the happy humanist who always knows what to say to make people laugh, the gloomy humanist whom you usually meet at wakes. They all hate one another : as individuals, of course, not as men. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1368:Esta mañana me afeité con esmero, aprovechando que usted no estaba ahí importunando a mi al rededor. De pronto vi su sombrerito de postillón y me impresioné, porque creía que se lo había llevado. Fue un poco como su hubiera vuelto. Hay un montón de objetos fantasmales en su habitación, habitados por usted, se entiende: sabe como me conmueve todo lo que le pertenece. A su manera son también una animación de la existencia bruta e inerte. Es muy bonito hablar de pura contigüidad, pero absurdo, porque el tipo de emoción que se siente es muy distinta de la que me produciría su presencia real. Es una existencia diferente, algo de usted que se ha vuelto cosa. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1369:Vedeți,eu împart oamenii în trei categorii: cei care au mulți bani, cei care nu au deloc și cei care au puțini. Primii vor să păstreze ce au, interesul lor este să mențină ordinea; cei din a doua vor să ia ce nu au: interesul lor e să distrugă ordinea actuală și să stabilească alta, care să le fie lor de folos. Și unii și alții sunt realiști, sunt oameni cu care te poți înțelege. În al treilea rând vin cei care vor să răstoarne orînduirea socială ca să pună mâna pe ce nu au, și în același timp s-o mențină, ca să nu li se ia ceea ce au. Atunci mențin de fapt ceea ce răstoarnă cu gândul, sau nimicesc de fapt ceea ce se prefac că mențin. Aceștia sunt idealiștii. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1370:I go, I go away, I walk, I wander, and everywhere I go I bear my shell with me, I remain at home in my room, among my books, I do not approach an inch nearer to Marrakech or Timbuktu. Even if I took a train, a boat, or a motor-bus, if I went to Morocco for my holiday, if I suddenly arrived at Marrakech, I should be always in my room, at home. And if I walked in the squares and in the sooks, if I gripped an Arab's shoulder, to feel Marrakech in his person - well, that Arab would be at Marrakech, not I : I should still be seated in my room, placid and meditative as is my chosen life, two thousand miles away from the Moroccan and his burnoose. In my room. Forever. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1371:The only difference between image and idea is thus that in the one case, the expression of the object is confused, and in the other, it is clear. The confusion comes from this: every movement envelops in itself the infinity of the movements of the universe; and the brain receives an infinity of modifications to which only a confused thought can correspond, enveloping the infinity of clear ideas that would correspond to each detail. Clear ideas are therefore contained in the confused ideas. They are unconscious; they are perceived without being apperceived. Only their sum total is apperceived; this appears simple to us because of our ignorance of its components. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1372:Nakarat birazdan başlayacak. Bu nakaratı ve dik kayalıkların denize uzanışı gibi ansızın ortaya çıkışını seviyorum asıl. Henüz sıra cazın; melodi yok, notalar var yalnız; binlerce küçücük titreyiş. Durup dinlenmiyorlar; eğilip bükülmez bir düzen onları ortaya çıkarıyor ve yok ediyor. Toparlanmalarına, kendileri için varoluşmalarına zaman bırakmıyor. Koşuyor, acele ediyor, yanımdan geçerken bana sertçe çarpıyor ve yok olup gidiyorlar. Onları durdurmak isterdim. Ama birini durdursam, elimde yavşak ve kötü bir sesten başka bir şey kalmayacağını biliyorum. Ölümlerine katlanmam gerek, hatta istemem gerekiyor bunu. Edindiğim izlenimlerin pek azı bu kadar acı ve güçlüdür. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1373:If existence really does precede essence, there is no explaining things away by reference to a fixed and given human nature, In other words, there is no determinism, man is free, man is freedom. On the other hand, if God does not exist, we find no values or commands to turn to which legitimize our conduct. So, in the bright realm of values, we have no excuses behind us, no justification before us. We are alone with no excuses.
This is the idea I shall try to convey when I say that man is condemned to be free. Condemned, because he did not create himself, yet in other respects is free; because once thrown into the world, he is responsible for everything he does. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1374:My thought is me: that’s why I can’t stop. I exist because I think … and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment—it’s frightful—if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head … if I yield, they’re going to come round in front of me, between my eyes— and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1375:My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think...and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment, it's frightful, if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head...if I yield, they're going to come round in front of me, between my eyes, and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1376:Mais alguns segundos e a negra vai cantar. Isso parece inevitável, tão forte é a necessidade dessa música: nada pode interrompê-la, nada que venha desse tempo no qual o mundo despencou; ela cessará por si mesma no momento exato. Se amo essa bela voz é sobretudo por isso: não é nem por seu volume, nem por sua tristeza; é porque ela é o acontecimento que tantas notas prepararam, de tão longe, morrendo para que ela possa nascer. E no entanto estou intranquilo; bastaria muito pouco para que o disco parasse: uma mola que se quebrasse, um capricho do primo Adolphe. Como é estranho, como é comovente que essa rigidez seja tão frágil. Nada pode interrompê-la e tudo pode aniquilá-la. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1377:A feu mon père, à mon grand-père, familiers des deuxièmes balcons, la hiérarchie sociale du théâtre avait donné le goût du cérémonial: quand beaucoup d'hommes sont ensemble, il faut les séparer par des rites ou bien ils se massacrent. Le cinéma prouvait le contraire : plutôt que par une fête, ce public si mêlé semblait réuni par une catastrophe; morte, l'étiquette démasquait enfin le véritable lien des hommes, l'adhérence. Je pris en dégoût les cérémonies, j'adorai les foules; j'en ai vu de toute sorte mais je n'ai pas retrouvé cette nudité, cette présence sans recul de chacun à tous, ce rêve éveillé, cette conscience obscure du danger d'être homme qu'en 1940, dans le Stalag XII D. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1378:Sartre’s reputation as France’s preeminent moral spokesman during the postwar period is rather tarnished these days. In 1941 he had no qualms about accepting a post at a prestigious lycée that came vacant when its previous occupant, a Jew, was dismissed by the Vichy authorities. His contribution to the Resistance was slight—he wrote articles for underground papers but took few risks—and his subversive play The Flies could not have been produced without the approval of the German censors. To undermine the heroism of resistance fighters appears self-serving, and coming from a man who was not a devout Catholic, the claim that Resistance fighters were willing martyrs is simply bizarre. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1379:J'avais deux raisons de respecter mon instituteur : il me voulait du bien, il avait l'haleine forte.
Les grandes personnes doivent être laides, ridées, incommodes; quand elles me prenaient dans leurs bras, il ne me déplaisait pas d'avoir un léger dégoût à surmonter : c'était la preuve que la vertu n'était pas facile. Il y avait des joies simples, triviales : courir, sauter, manger des gâteaux, embrasser la peau douce et parfumée de ma mère; mais j'attachais plus de prix aux plaisirs studieux et mêlés que j'éprouvais dans la compagnie des hommes mûrs : la répulsion qu'ils m'inspiraient faisait partie de leur prestige ; je confondais le dégoût avec l'esprit de sérieux. J'étais snob. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1380:What he is drawn to in their philosophy, he tells me, is the idea that you cannot control what happens to you, but you can control how you feel about it. Or, as Jean-Paul Sartre put it, “Freedom is what you do with what’s been done to you.” What has been done to us seems to be, among other things, that we have been made fearful. What will we do with our fear? This strikes me as a central question of both citizenship and motherhood. As mothers, we must somehow square our power with our powerlessness. We can protect our children to some extent. But we cannot make them invulnerable any more than we can make ourselves invulnerable. “Life,” as Donna Haraway writes, “is a window of vulnerability. ~ Eula Biss, #NFDB
1381:Espera tanto tempo. Os últimos anos tinham sido uma vigília.
Esperara através de mil e uma preocupações quotidianas.
Naturalmente durante esse tempo andara atrás de mulheres, viajara e ganhara a vida. Mas através de tudo isso a sua única preocupação fora manter-se disponível. Para uma acção. Um acto.
Um acto livre e reflectido que acarretaria o destino da sua vida e seria o início de uma nova existência. Nunca pudera prender-se definitivamente a um amor, a um prazer, nunca fora realmennte infeliz; sempre lhe parecera estar algures, não ter ainda nascido completamente.
Esperava. E durante esse tempo, devagar, sub-repticiamente os anos tinham chegado, e tinham-no envolvido. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1382:If anyone had asked me what existence was, I would have answered, in good faith, that it was nothing, simply an empty form which was added to external things without changing anything in their nature. And then all of a sudden, there it was, clear as day: existence had suddenly unveiled itself. It had lost the harmless look of an abstract category: it was the very paste of things, this root was kneaded into existence. Or rather the root, the park gates, the bench, the sparse grass, all that had vanished: the diversity of things, their individuality, were only an appearance, a veneer. This veneer had melted, leaving soft, monstrous masses, all in disorder—naked, in a frightful, obscene nakedness. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1383:Alain Prévost’un Playboy üstüne bir yazısını okumuştum. Aşağı yukarı şöyle diyordu: “Bu Amerikan dergisi aynı anda iki ayrı şeyi yapmak savını taşıyor, kimi zaman. Kafa verimleriyle baldırbacak verilerini sayfalarında yan yana koyuyor. Çıplak kadın fotoğraflarının yanı sıra Fidel Castro’yla, Jean Paul Sartre’la yapılmış uzun ve ağırbaşlı konuşmalar yayımlıyor. Düşünüyorum da, neden olmasın? Kapitalizmin gerçekçiliği diyebiliriz buna. Reklamcılık çabası bugün öyle sınırlara ulaşmış bulunuyor ki nicedir araba satışlarıyla makarna ya da sabun satışlarının bir arada yürütülmesini hiç yadırgamıyoruz. Alıştık artık. Cinsellik niçin ayrı kalsın?” Playboy büyük bir yayın organı. Baskı sayısı 3 milyona değiyor. ~ Cemal S reya, #NFDB
1384:When I was little, my Aunt Bigeois told me "If you look at yourself too long in the mirror, you'll see a monkey." I must have looked at myself even longer than that: what I see is well below the monkey, on the fringe of the vegetable world, at the level of jellyfish... The eyes especially are horrible seen so close. They are glassy, soft, blind, red-rimmed, they look like fish scales... A silky white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I recognize the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1385:Consciousness does not know its own character -- unless in determining itself reflectively from the standpoint of another's point of view. It exists its character in pure distinction non-thematically and non-thetically in the proof which it effects of its own contingency and in the nihilation by which it recognizes and surpasses its facticity. This is why pure introspective self-description does not give us character. Proust's hero 'does not have' a directly apprehensible character; he is presented first as being conscious of himself as an ensemble of general reactions common to all men...in which each man can recognise himself. This is because these reactions belong to the general 'nature' of the psychic. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1386:Couldn’t I try. . . . Naturally, it wouldn’t be a question of a tune . . . but couldn’t I, in another medium? . . . It would have to be a book: I don’t know how to do anything else. But not a history book: history talks about what has existed—an existant can never justify the existence of another existant. My error, I wanted to resuscitate the Marquis de Rollebon. Another type of book. I don’t quite know which kind—but you would have to guess, behind the printed words, behind the pages, at something which would not exist, which would be above existence. A story, for example, something that could never happen, an adventure. It would have to be beautiful and hard as steel and make people ashamed of their existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1387:The vocal chorus will be along shortly: I like that part especially and the abrupt manner in which it throws itself forward, like a cliff against the sea. For the moment, the jazz is playing; there is no melody, only notes, a myriad of tiny jolts. They know no rest, an inflexible order gives birth to them and destroys them without even giving them time to recuperate and exist for themselves. They race, they press forward, they strike me a sharp blow in passing and are obliterated. I would like to hold them back, but I know if I succeeded in stopping one it would remain between my fingers only as a raffish languishing sound. I must accept their death; I must even will it. I know few impressions stronger or more harsh. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1388:T. S. Eliot and Jean-Paul Sartre, dissimilar enough as thinkers, both tend to undervalue prose and to deny it any imaginative function. Poetry is the creation of linguistic quasi-things; prose is for explanation and exposition, it is essentially didactic, documentary, informative. Prose is ideally transparent; it is only faute de mieux written in words. The influential modern stylist is Hemingway. It would be almost inconceivable now to write like Landor. Most modern English novels indeed are not written. One feels they could slip into some other medium without much loss. It takes a foreigner like Nabokov or an Irishman like Beckett to animate prose language into an imaginative stuff in its own right. ~ Iris Murdoch, #NFDB
1389:think this is what happens: you suddenly feel that time is passing, that each instant leads to another, this one to another one, and so on; that each instant is annihilated, and that it isn’t worth while to hold it back, etc., etc. And then you attribute this property to events which appear to you in the instants; what belongs to the form you carry over to the content. You talk a lot about this amazing flow of time but you hardly see it. You see a woman, you think that one day she’ll be old, only you don’t see her grow old. But there are moments when you think you see her grow old and feel yourself growing old with her: this is the feeling of adventure. If I remember correctly, they call that the irreversibility of time. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1390:THE HOLE The hole is something which longs to be filled. The small child is drawn as if by magic to holes. He can not restrain himself from putting in his finger or his whole arm. He makes a symbolic sacrifice of his body to cause the void to disappear and a plenitude of being to exist. The fundamental tendency of human beings to stop up holes persists throughout life, symbolically and in reality. And only from this standpoint can we understand why the feminine sex is obscene. It is obscene because it is a hole and because it sends out an appeal for a plenitude of flesh. A woman also senses her condition as such an appeal, such an enticement. Thus every hole becomes something obscene because it “is an obscene expectation. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1391:Thousands of times the French saw, over the course of those four years, in shop windows, bottles of Saint-Emilion or of Meursault arranged in neat pyramids. They’d approach the window, enticed, only to read on a placard: artificial display. So it was with Paris: it was nothing more than an artificial display. Everything was hollow and empty: the Louvre without paintings, the Chamber without deputies, the Senate without senators, the Lycée Montaigne without students. The artificial existence that the Germans maintained, the theatrical events, the races, the miserable and lugubrious festivals held only in order to show the universe that France was saved because Paris still lived: all were the strange consequence of centralization. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1392:Yüksek sosyete, hakkında hiç konuşmamak için inanıyordu Tanrı'ya. Din, ne kadar da hoşgörülü görünüyordu! Ne kadar da elverişliydi. Hristiyan, ayinlere katılmayabilir ama çocuklarını dini nikahla evlendirebilirdi; Saint-Sulpice'in ''koyu dindarlığı''na gülüp geçebilir ve Lohengrin'in Düğün Marşı'yla gözyaşı dökebilirdi. Örnek bir hayat sürmesi de, umutsuzluk içimde ölmesi de gerekmezdi, hatta cesedini yaktırmak zorunda da değildi. Bizim ortamımızda, ailemde, dinsel inanç tatlı Fransız özgürlüğü için resmi bir addan başka şey değildi; çok sayıda başkası gibi, bağımsızlığımı korumam için vaftiz edilmiştim ben, vaftiz edilmeseydim, ruhuma bir kötülük yapmış olmalarından korkacaklardı; Katolik olarak kayda geçince özgürdüm, normaldim artık. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1393:How come he cannot recognize his own cruelty now turned against him? How come he can't see his own savagery as a colonist in the savagery of these oppressed peasants who have absorbed it through every pore and for which they can find no cure? The answer is simple: this arrogant individual, whose power of authority and fear of losing it has gone to his head, has difficulty remembering he was once a man; he thinks he is a whip or a gun; he is convinced that the domestication of the "inferior races" is obtained by governing their reflexes. He disregards the human memory, the indelible reminders; and then, above all, there is this that perhaps he never know: we only become what we are by radically negating deep down what others have done to us. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1394:this petrification of men was so intolerable that many threw themselves into the Resistance to escape it. Strange future, barred by suffering, prison, death, but at least we procured it by our own hands. (If there is an excuse or at least an explanation for collaboration, perhaps we should say that it too was an attempt to give France a future.) But the Resistance was nothing more than an individual solution, and we always knew that; even without it, the English would have won the war, with it they would still have lost if they were going to lose. It had, however, in our eyes, a symbolic valor; and that is why so many resisters had a desperate air about them: always symbols. A symbolic rebellion in a symbolic city: only the torture was real. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1395:The function of a writer is to call a spade a spade. If words are sick, it is up to us to cure them. Instead of that, many writers live off this sickness. In many cases modern literature is a cancer of words. ... There is nothing more deplorable than the literary practice which, I believe, is called poetic prose and which consists of using words for the obscure harmonics which reosund about them and which are made up of vague meanings which are in contradiction with the clear meaning. .... That is not all: we are living in an age of mystifications. Some are fundamental ones which are due to the structure of society; some are secondary. At any rate, the social order today rests upon the mystification of consciousness, as does disorder as well. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1396:And I— soft, weak, obscene, digesting, juggling with dismal thoughts— I, too, was In the way. Fortunately, I didn’t feel it, although I realized it, but I was uncomfortable because I was afraid of feeling it (even now I am afraid— afraid that it might catch me behind my head and lift me up like a wave). I dreamed vaguely of killing myself to wipe out at least one of these superfluous lives. But even my death would have been In the way.In the way, my corpse, my blood on these stones, between these plants, at the back of this smiling garden. And the decomposed flesh would have been In the way in the earth which would receive my bones, at last, cleaned, stripped, peeled, proper and clean as teeth, it would have been In the way: I was In the way for eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1397:-Skończyłam się. Wcale nie jestem smutna. Często się temu dziwiłam, ale nie miałam racji: dlaczegóż miałabym być smutna? Kiedyś byłam zdolna do dość pięknych namiętności. Namiętnie nienawidziłam swojej matki. A ciebie znowu – mówi z wyznaniem – ciebie kochałam namiętnie. Wszystko to oczywiście skończyło się.
-Skąd o tym wiesz?
-Wiem. Wiem, że już nigdy nie napotkam niczego i nikogo, kto mógłby wzbudzić moją namiętność. Wiesz, żeby móc kogoś pokochać, to całe przedsięwzięcie. Trzeba mieć energię, ciekawość, zaślepienie… jest nawet taka chwila na początku, kiedy trzeba przeskoczyć nad przepaścią: kto się zastanowi, nie zrobi tego. Wiem, że już nigdy nie skoczę. Obecnie żyję w otoczeniu moich martwych namiętności. Próbuję odnaleźć tę piękną wściekłość. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1398:In short, the political/media treatment of these events seeks to systematically mask the attacks’ social and geopolitical causes. Moreover, it reproduces the structural conditions that were their feeding ground. The trajectories of Mohammed Merah, the Kouachi brothers, and Amedy Coulibaly are rooted in a context of social breakdown and structural racism. They embody the “boomerang effect” violence about which Frantz Fanon and Jean-Paul Sartre warned. Moreover, they can only be understood in connection to the wars in the Middle East, linking France’s structural racism to imperialism, the global “colonial” order, and the sociopolitical conflicts taking place in Arab societies. In this sense, the extreme violence of “peripheral” contexts is now returning from whence it came. ~ Anonymous, #NFDB
1399:The existentialist, on the contrary, finds it extremely embarrassing that God does not exist, for there disappears with Him all possibility of finding values in an intelligible heaven. There can no longer be any good a priori, since there is no infinite and perfect consciousness to think it. It is nowhere written that “the good” exists, that one must be honest or must not lie, since we are now upon the plane where there are only men. Dostoevsky once wrote: “If God did not exist, everything would be permitted”; and that, for existentialism, is the starting point. Everything is indeed permitted if God does not exist, and man is in consequence forlorn, for he cannot find anything to depend upon either within or outside himself. He discovers forthwith, that he is without excuse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1400:Será verdade que sou um salafrário? A poltrona é verde, a corda parece uma alça, isso é indiscutível. Mas em relação às pessoas pode-se sempre discutir, tudo o que fazem pode ser explicado, por cima ou por baixo, como se queira. Recusei porque quero permanecer livre. É o que posso dizer. Mas posso dizer também: tive medo, prefiro minhas cortinas verdes, prefiro tomar ar à tare no meu balcão, e não desejaria que isso mudasse. Agrada-me indignar-me contra o capitalismo, mas não desejo que o suprimam, porque não teria mais motivos de indignação. Agrada-me sentir-me desdenhoso e solitário, agrada-me dizer 'não', sempre 'não', e teria medo que se tentasse construir para valer um mundo vivível porque teria que dizer 'sim' e fazer como os outros.Por cima ou por baixo: quem julgaria? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1401:It is no good putting yourself in the dead man's shoes, pretending to share his passions, his blunders, and his prejudices, reawakening vanished moments of strength, impatience, or apprehension; you cannot help assessing his behaviour in light of results which he could not foresee and of information which he did not possess, or attributing a particular solemnity to events whose effects marked him later, but which he lived through casually. That is the mirage: the future is more real than the present. It is not surprising: in a completed life, the end is taken as the truth of the beginning. The dead man stands half-way between being and worth, between the crude fact and its reconstruction: his history becomes a kind of circular essence which is summed up in each of his moments. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1402:Yaşarken başımızdan hiçbir şey geçmez. Dekorlar değişir, kişiler girer çıkar yalnız. Başlangıçlar da yoktur; günler anlamsız bir biçimde birbirine eklenir durur; sonu gelmez, tekdüze bir ekleniştir bu. Ara sıra şöyle bir hesap yapılır: "İşte üç yıldır yolculuklar yapıyorum. Bouville'e geleli üç yıl oldu." denir. Başlangıç olmadığı gibi son da yoktur. Bir kadın, bir dost, bir kent bir kerede terk edilemez. Hepsi birbirine benzer zaten. Aradan iki hafta geçince Şanghay, Moskova, Cezayir birbirinin aynıdır. Kimi zaman (pek sık değil), durumu gözden geçirir, bir kadına bağlandığınızı, kötü bir işe girdiğinizi fark edersiniz. Göz açıp kapayıncaya kadar sürer bu. Sonra döngü yeniden başlar, saatleri ve günleri birbirine eklemeye koyulursunuz. Pazartesi, salı, çarşamba. 1924, 1925, 1926. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1403:This feeling of adventure definitely does not come from events: I have proved it. It's rather the way in which the moments are linked together. I think this is what happens: you suddenly feel that time is passing, that each instant leads to another, this one to another one, and so on; that each instant is annihilated, and that it isn't worth while to hold it back, etc., etc. And then you attribute this property to events which appear to you in the instants; what belongs to the form you carry over to the content. You talk a lot about this amazing flow of time but you hardly see it. You see a woman, you think that one day she'll be old, only you don't see her grow old. But there are moments when you think you see her grow old and feel yourself growing old with her: this is the feeling of adventure. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1404:...imaginaţia este principala facultate omenească la care recurge religia. Jean-Paul Sartre a definit-o ca "abilitatea de a gândi ceea ce nu există". Fiinţele umane sunt singurele făpturi înzestrate cu capacitatea de a-şi reprezenta ceva ce nu este prezent sau nu există încă, dar care este pur şi simplu posibil. Astfel, imaginaţia a fost sursa unor realizări majore la ştiinţă şi tehnologie, ca şi în artă şi religie. Oricum ar fi definit El, ideea de Dumnezeu poate fi un exemplu fundamental de realitate absentă care, în ciuda inerentelor dificultăţi, a continuat să îi inspire pe oameni mii de ani. Îl concepem pe Dumnezeu, care rămâne imperceptibil pentru simţuri şi inaccesibil pentru dovada logică, prin intermediul simbolurilor, iar interpretarea este principala formă de manifestare a celui înzestrat cu imaginaţie. ~ Karen Armstrong, #NFDB
1405:This place might have been gay, around 1800, with its pink bricks and houses. Now there is
something dry and evil about it, a delicate touch of horror. It comes from that fellow up there on his pedestal. When they cast this scholar in bronze they also turned out a sorcerer.
I look at Impetraz full in the face. He has no eyes, hardly any nose, and beard eaten away by that strange leprosy which sometimes descends, like an epidemic, on all the statues in one neighbourhood.
He bows; on the left hand side near his heart his waistcoat is soiled with a light green stain. He looks.
He does not live, but neither is he inanimate. A mute power emanates from him: like a wind driving me backwards: Impetraz would
like to chase me out of the Cour des Hypotheques. But I shall not leave before I finish this pipe. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1406:There exist concretely alarm clocks, signboards, tax forms, policemen, so many guard rails against anguish. But as soon as the enterprise is held at a distance from me, as soon as I am referred to myself because I must await myself in the future, then I discover myself suddenly as the one who gives its meaning to the alarm clock, the one who by a signboard forbids himself to walk on a flower bed or on the lawn, the one from whom the boss's order borrows its urgency, the one who decides the interest of the book which he is writing, the one who finally makes the values exist in order to determine his action by their demands. I emerge alone and in anguish confronting the unique and original project which constitutes my being; all the barriers, all the guard rails collapse, nihilated by the consciousness of my freedom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1407:Experienced professionals? They have dragged out their life in stupor and semi-sleep, they have married hastily, out of impatience, they have made children at random. They have met other men in cafés, at weddings and funerals. Sometimes, caught in the tide, they have struggled against it without understanding what was happening to them. All that has happened around them has eluded them; long, obscure shapes, events from afar, brushed by them rapidly and when they turned to look all had vanished. And then, around forty, they christen their small obstinacies and a few proverbs with the name of experience, they begin to simulate slot machines: put a coin in the left hand slot and you get tales wrapped in silver paper, put a coin in the slot on the right and you get precious bits of advice that stick to your teeth like caramels. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1408:Or a mother might look at her child's cheek and ask him: "What's that, a pimple?" and see the flesh puff out a little, split, open, and at the bottom of the split an eye, a laughing eye might appear. Or they might feel things gently brushing against their bodies, like the caresses of reeds to swimmers in a river. And they will realize that their clothing has become living things. And someone else might feel something scratching in his mouth. He goes to the mirror, opens his mouth: and his tongue is an enormous, live centipede, rubbing its legs together and scraping his palate. He'd like to spit it out, but the centipede is a part of him and he will have to tear it out with his own hands. And a crowd of things will appear for which people will have to find new names, stone eye, great three cornered arm, toe crutch, spider jaw. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1409:Çevreme kaygılı gözlerle baktım, şimdi'den başka tek şey yoktu. Şimdi'lerin içinde kabuk bağlamış, hafif ve sağlam mobilyalar; bir masa, bir yatak, bir aynalı dolap ve... ben. Şimdi'nin gerçek özü kendini açığa vuruyordu. Şimdi var olandı, şimdi olmayan hiçbir şey varoluşmuyordu. Geçmiş var olan bir şey değildi. Hem de hiç değildi. Ne eşyada ne de düşüncemde varoluşuyordu. Kendi geçmişimin benden kaçmış olduğunu çoktan beri anlamıştım. Ama benim alanımın dışına kaçmış olduğuna inanmıştım. Benim gözümde geçmiş, bir çeşit emekliye çıkarma; bir başka varoluşma biçimi, bir tatil ve hareketsizlikti. İşi biten her olay, kendi kendine bir kutunun içine usulca giriyor ve bir fahri olay niteliği alıyordu. Hiçliği düşünmek bu kadar zordur işte. Ama şimdi anladım, eşyanın, görünüşünü aşan bir varlığı yok. Onların ardında... hiçbir şey yok. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1410:I looked anxiously around me: the present, nothing but the present. Furniture light and solid, rooted in its present, a table, a bed, a closet with a mirror-and me. the true nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, and all that was not present did not exist. The past did not exist. Not at all. Not in things, not even in my thoughts. It is true that I had realized a long time ago that mine had escaped me. But until then I had believed that it had simply gone out of my range. For me the past was only a pensioning off: it was another way of existing, a state of vacation and inaction; each event, when it had played its part, put itself politely into a box and became an honorary event: we have so much difficulty imagining nothingness. Now I knew: things are entirely what they appear to be-and behind them... there is nothing. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1411:Liberation does not bring unadulterated joy. When a tyrant falls, when an occupying army is ousted, when an oppressive regime gives way to a free and democratic order, a new day does not dawn. Triumphant speeches by new leaders may distract attention from the problems facing the liberated country; victory parades or spontaneous celebrations in the streets for a time may obscure deep divisions within the newly free society. But any occupation leaves scars on a nation’s psyche. The complicity of some with the former rulers, the persecution of others at the hands of their fellow citizens, courageous acts of resistance offset by the passivity of the majority of the population—only by facing these shameful features of its subjugation can the liberated nation achieve harmony, heal its wounds, and regain legitimacy in the eyes of the outside world. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1412:His name was Jean-Paul Sartre. He looked at Descartes’s statement “I think, therefore I am” very deeply and suddenly realized, in his own words, “The consciousness that says ‘I am’ is not the consciousness that thinks.” What did he mean by that? When you are aware that you are thinking, that awareness is not part of thinking. It is a different dimension of consciousness. And it is that awareness that says “I am.” If there were nothing but thought in you, you wouldn’t even know you are thinking. You would be like a dreamer who doesn’t know he is dreaming. You would be as identified with every thought as the dreamer is with every image in the dream. Many people still live like that, like sleepwalkers, trapped in old dysfunctional mind-sets that continuously re-create the same nightmarish reality. When you know you are dreaming, you are awake within the dream. ~ Eckhart Tolle, #NFDB
1413:I go to the window, I spot a fly under the curtain, I corner it in a muslin trap and move a murderous forefinger toward it. This moment is not in the program, it's something apart, timeless, incomparable, motionless, nothing will come of it this evening or later . . . Mankind is asleep. . . . Alone and without a future in a stagnant moment, a child is asking murder for strong sensations. Since I'm refused a man's destiny, I'll be the destiny of a fly. I don't rush matters, I'm letting it have time enough to become aware of the giant bending over it. I move my finger forward, the fly bursts, I'm foiled! Good God, I shouldn't have killed it! It was the only being in all creation that feared me; I no longer mean anything to anyone. I, the insecticide, take the victim's place and become an insect myself. I'm a fly, I've always been one. This time I've touched bottom. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1414:Superfluity was the only relationship I could establish between these trees, these hedges, these paths. Vainly I strove to compute the number of the chestnut trees, or their distance from the Velleda, or their height as compared with that of the plane trees; each of them escaped from the pattern I made for it, overflowed from it or withdrew. And I too among them, vile, languorous, obscene, chewing the cud of my thoughts, I too was superfluous. [I is you or I or anyone.] Luckily I did not feel it, I only understood it, but I felt uncomfortable because I was afraid of feeling it. . . . I thought vaguely of doing away with myself, to do away with at least one of these superfluous existences. But my death – my corpse, my blood poured out on this gravel, among these plants, in this smiling garden – would have been superfluous as well. I was superfluous to all eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1415:And all these existents which bustled about this tree came from nowhere and were going nowhere. Suddenly they existed, then suddenly they existed no longer: existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing—not even a memory. Existence everywhere, infinitely, in excess, for ever and everywhere; existence—which is limited only by existence. I sank down on the bench, stupefied, stunned by this profusion of beings without origin: everywhere blossomings, hatchings out, my ears buzzed with existence, my very flesh throbbed and opened, abandoned itself to the universal burgeoning. It was repugnant. But why, I thought, why so many existences, since they all look alike? What good are so many duplicates of trees? So many existences missed, obstinately begun again and again missed—like the awkward efforts of an insect fallen on its back? (I was one of those efforts.) ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1416:A few seconds more and the Negress will sing. It seems inevitable, so strong is the necessity of this music: nothing can interrupt it, nothing which comes from this time in which the world has fallen; it will stop by itself, as if by order. If I love this beautiful voice it is especially because of that: it is neither for its fulness nor its sadness, rather because it is the event for which so many notes have been preparing, from so far away, dying that it might be born. And yet I am troubled; it would take so little to make the record stop: a broken spring, the whim of Cousin Adolphe. How strange it is, how moving, that this hardness should be so fragile. Nothing can interrupt it yet it can break it.
The last chord has died away. In the brief silence which follows I feel strongly that there is, that SOMETHING HAS HAPPENED.
Silence.
"SOME OF THESE DAYS
YOU'LL MISS ME HONEY ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1417:In fact, many of the most famous anti-Christian polemicists of the last 200 years—who sought to use science to justify their unbelief—never themselves set foot in a laboratory or conducted a single field observation. That includes the Marquis de Sade (a writer), Percy Bysshe Shelley (a poet), Friedrich Nietzsche (a philologist by training), Algernon Swinburne (a poet), Bertrand Russell (a philosopher), Karl Marx (a philosopher), Robert Ingersoll (a lecturer), George Bernard Shaw (a playwright), Vladimir Lenin (a communist revolutionary), Joseph Stalin (a communist dictator), H. L. Mencken (a newspaper columnist), Jean-Paul Sartre (a philosopher), Benito Mussolini (a fascist dictator), Luis Buñuel (Spanish filmmaker), Clarence Darrow (a lawyer), Ayn Rand (a novelist), Christopher Hitchens (a journalist), Larry Flynt (a pornographer), George Soros and Warren Buffett (investors), and Penn and Teller (magicians). ~ Robert J Hutchinson, #NFDB
1418:Hümanizm, bütün insani davranışları kendi malı haline getirir ve hepsini birbirine karıştırır. Ona dosdoğru karşı gelirseniz oyununa düşmüş olursunuz; çünkü hümanizm, karşıtlıklarına dayanarak yaşar. Dik başlılar, dar görüşlüler, yasa dinlemezler ona yenilip dururlar; onların bütün sertliklerini, bütün kötü aşırılıklarını hümanizm sindirir ve köpüklü beyaz bir lenf haline sokar. Düşünce düşmanlığını, manişeizmi, mistisizmi, kötümserliği, anarşizmi, bencilliği sindirmiştir. Bunlar varoluşlarını ancak hümanizm içinde haklı çıkaran tamamlanmamış düşünceler ve aşamalardır. Bu topluluk içinde insanlardan tiksinen kimse de yerini bulur; bütünün uyumunu sağlayacak bir uyumsuzluktur sadece. Başkalarından tiksinen bir insanoğludur, öyleyse hümanistin de belli bir yere kadar başkalarından tiksinmesi gerekmektedir. Ama o, tiksinme ve nefretini dozunda kullanan bilimsel bir insansevmezdir. İnsanlardan, onları daha iyi sevebilmek için önce nefret etmiştir. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1419:I was not surprised, I knew perfectly well that it was the World, the World in all its nakedness which was suddenly revealing itself, and I choked with fury at that huge absurd being. You couldn't even wonder where it all came from, or how it was that a world should exist rather than nothing. It didn't make sense, the world was present everywhere, in front, behind. There had been nothing before it. Nothing. There had been no moment at which it might not have existed. It was that which irritated me; naturally there was no reason for it to exist...But it was not possible for it not to exist. That was unthinkable: in order to imagine nothingness, you had to be there already, right in the world, with your eyes wide open and alive; nothingness was just an idea in my head, an existing idea floating in that immensity; this nothingness hadn't come before existence, it was an existence like any other and one which had appeared after a great many others. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1420:For many have but one resource to sustain them in their misery, and that is to think, “Circumstances have been against me, I was worthy to be something much better than I have been. I admit I have never had a great love or a great friendship; but that is because I never met a man or a woman who were worthy of it; if I have not written any very good books, it is because I had not the leisure to do so; or, if I have had no children to whom I could devote myself it is because I did not find the man I could have lived with. So there remains within me a wide range of abilities, inclinations and potentialities, unused but perfectly viable, which endow me with a worthiness that could never be inferred from the mere history of my actions.” But in reality and for the existentialist, there is no love apart from the deeds of love; no potentiality of love other than that which is manifested in loving; there is no genius other than that which is expressed in works of art. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1421:Attends. Laisse-moi dire adieu à cette légèreté sans tache qui fut la mienne. Laisse-moi dire adieu à ma jeunesse. Il y a des soirs, des soirs de Corinthe ou d'Athènes, pleins de chants et d'odeurs qui ne m'appartiendront plus jamais. Des matins, pleins d'espoir aussi... Allons adieu! adieu! (Il vient vers Electre.) Viens, Electre, regarde notre ville. Elle est là, rouge sous le soleil, bourdonnante d'hommes et de mouches, dans l'engourdissement têtu d'un après-midi d'été; elle me repousse de tous ses murs, de tous ses toits, de toutes ses portes closes. Et pourtant elle est à prendre, je le sens depuis ce matin. Et toi aussi, Electre, tu es à prendre. Je vous prendrai. Je deviendrai hache et je fendrai en deux ces murailles obstinées, j'ouvrirai le ventre de ces maisons bigotes, elles exhaleront par leurs plaies béantes une odeur de mangeaille et d'encens; je deviendrai cognée et je m enfoncerai dans le cœur de cette ville comme la cognée dans le cœur d'un chêne. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1422:Güzel olmayacak herhalde, bana benziyor. Küçüğüm, annesine benzese daha iyi olurdu. Henüz yumuşacıktı, kemiksiz sanılabilirdi. Ama buna rağmen, daha şimdiden, kendinde benim kanunum olan haşin, değişmez kanunu taşıyordu; hücreler benim kanunuma göre çoğalacak, bıngıldaklar benim kanunuma göre kapanacaklar ve kafatası benim kanunuma göre kemikleşecek. Silik görünüşlü, renksiz, donuk saçlı, ufak tefek, zayıf bir kız çocuğu; sağ kolda kemikte hafif kireçlenme, gözleri miyop, ses çıkarmadan, hatta toprağa değmeden, kayar gibi yürüyecek; eşyayı ve insanları yerinden kımıldatamayacak kadar hafif olduğu için de eşyadan ve insanlardan uzak kalacak, sokulamayacak. Birbirinin peşi sıra, bıkmadan, usanmadan acımadan bu küçücük varlığa yüklenecek seneler. Ne kadar boş, ne kadar anlamsız; her şey orada, o etin içinde yazılı değil mi? Çok çok önceden yazılmış, kararlaşmış. Onun, alınyazısını noktası noktasına, adım adım yaşaması, ama bunu kendi elleriyle yarattığına inanması gerek. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1423:Ahora, ese porvenir estaba ahí, a mis pies, muerto. Era un porvenir falso, una impostura. Contemplaba esos veinte años que viviera de pie, soleados, una llanura marina, y los veía ahora como habían sido: un número determinado de jornadas comprimidas entre dos altos muros sin esperanza, un periodo catalogado, con un comienzo y un fin, que figuraría en los manuales de historia con el nombre de periodo entre dos guerras. Veinte años: 1918 - 1938 ¡Sólo veinte años! Ayer aquello parecía a la vez más corto y más largo; de todas maneras, a nadie se le hubiera ocurrido contarlo, puesto que no había terminado. Ahora, estaba terminado. Era un porvenir falso. Todo cuanto uno viviera durante esos años, lo había vivido en falso. Nosotros eramos aplicados y serios, tratábamos de comprender y ahora resultaba que esas hermosas jornadas tenían un porvenir secreto y negro, que nos engañaban, que la guerra de hoy, la nueva Gran Guerra, nos las robaba a ocultas. Eramos cornudos sin saberlo. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1424:Höderer: You don't love men, Hugo. You love only principles.
Hugo: Men? Why should I love them? Do they love me?
Höderer: Then why did you come to us? If you don't love men, you can't fight for them.
Hugo: I joined the party because its cause is just, and I shall leave it when that cause ceases to be just. As for men, it's not what they are that interests me, but what they can become.
Höderer: And I, I love them for what they are. With all their filth and and all their vices. I love their voices and their warm grasping hands, and their skin, the nudest skin of all, and their uneasy glances, and the desperate struggle each has to pursue against anguish and against death. For me, one man more or less in the world is something that counts. It's something precious. You, I know you now, you are a destroyer. You detest men because you detest yourself. Your purity resembles death. The revolution you dream of is not ours. You don't want to change the world, you want to blow it up. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1425:I feel my hand. I am these two beasts struggling at the end of my arms. My hand scratches one of its paws with the nail of the other paw; I feel its weight on the table which is not me. It's long, long, this impression of weight, it doesn't pass. There is no reason for it to pass. It becomes intolerable
...
I draw back my hand and put it in my pocket; but immediately I feel the warmth of my thigh through the stuff. I pull my hand out of my pocket and let it hang against the back of the chair. Now I feel a weight at the end of my arm. It pulls a little, softly, insinuatingly it exists. I don't insist: no matter where I put it it will go on existing; I can't suppress it, nor can I suppress the rest of my body, the sweaty warmth, which soils my shirt, nor all this warm obesity which turns lazily, as if someone were stirring it with a spoon, nor all the sensations going on inside, going, coming, mounting from my side to my armpit or quietly vegetating from morning to night, in their usual corner. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1426:I see the future. It is there, poised over the street, hardly more dim than the present. What advantage will accrue from its realisation? The old woman stumps further and further away, she stops, pulls at a grey lock of hair which escapes from her handkerchief. She walks, she was there, now she is here... I don't know where I am any more: do i see her motions, or do I foresee them? I can no longer distinguish present from future and yet it lasts, it happens little by little; the old woman advances in the deserted street, shuffling her heavy, mannish brogues. This is time, time laid bare, coming slowly into existence, keeping us waiting, and when it does come making us sick because we realise it's been there for a long time. The old woman reaches the corner of the street, no more than a bundle of black clothes. All right then, it's new, she wasn't there a little while ago. But it's a tarnished deflowered newness, which can never surprise. She is going to turn the corner, she turns - during an eternity. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1427:Something is beginning in order to end: adventure does not let itself be drawn out; it only makes sense when dead. I am drawn, irrevocably, towards this death which is perhaps mine as well. Each instant appears only as part of a sequence. I cling to each instant with all my heart: I know that it is unique, irreplaceable -- and yet I would not raise a finger to stop it from being annihilated. This last moment I am spending -- in Berlin, in London -- in the arms of a woman casually met two days ago -- moment I love passionately, woman I may adore -- all is going to end, I know it. Soon I shall leave for another country. I shall never rediscover either this woman or this night. I grasp at each second, trying to suck it dry: nothing happens which I do not seize, which I do not fix forever in myself, nothing, neither the fugitive tenderness of those lovely eyes, nor the noises of the street, nor the false dawn of early morning: and even so the minute passes and I do not hold it back, I like to see it pass. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1428:A circle is not absurd, it is clearly explained by the rotation of a straight segment around one of its extremities. But neither does a circle exist. This root, on the other hand, existed in such a way that I could not explain it. Knotty, inert, nameless, it fascinated me, filled my eyes, brought me back unceasingly to its own existence. In vain to repeat: "This is a root"—it didn't work any more. I saw clearly that you could not pass from its function as a root, as a breathing pump, to that, to this hard and compact skin of a sea lion, to this oily, callous, headstrong look. The function explained nothing: it allowed you to understand generally that it was a root, but not that one at all. This root, with its colour, shape, its congealed movement, was . . . below all explanation. Each of its qualities escaped it a little, flowed out of it, half solidified, almost became a thing; each one was In the way in the root and the whole stump now gave me the impression of unwinding itself a little, denying its existence to lose itself in a frenzied excess. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1429:This is a plot: I hope he will keep quiet while he looks at them. I dive under the table and push the chest against his patent leather shoes, I put an armload of post cards and photos on his lap: Spain and Spanish Morocco.
But I see by his laughing, open look that I have been singularly mistaken in hoping to reduce him to silence. He glances over a view of San Sebastian from Monte Igueldo, sets it cautiously on the table and remains silent for an instant. Then he sighs:
'Ah, Monsieur, you're lucky ... if what they say is true-travel is the best school. Is that your opinion, Monsieur?'
I make a vague gesture. Luckily he has not finished.
'It must be such an upheaval. If I were ever to go on a trip, I think I should make written notes of the slightest traits of my character before leaving, so that when I returned I would be able to compare what I was and what I had become. I've read that there are travellers who have changed physically and morally to such an extent that even their closest relatives did not recognize them when they came back. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1430:The essential thing is contingency. I mean that one cannot define existence as necessity. To exist is simply to be there; those who exist let themselves be encountered, but you can never deduce anything from them. I believe there are people who have understood this. Only they tried to overcome this contingency by inventing a necessary, causal being. But no necessary being can explain existence: contingency is not a delusion, a probability which can be dissipated; it is the absolute, consequently, the perfect free gift. All is free, this park, this city and myself. When you realize that, it turns your heart upside down and everything begins to float, as the other evening at the "Railwaymen's Rendezvous": here is Nausea; here there is what those bastards—the ones on the Coteau Vert and others—try to hide from themselves with their idea of their rights. But what a poor lie: no one has any rights; they are entirely free, like other men, they cannot succeed in not feeling superfluous. And in themselves, secretly, they are superfluous, that is to say, amorphous, vague, and sad. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1431:We were never more free than during the German occupation. We had lost all our rights, beginning with the right to talk. Every day we were insulted to our faces and had to take it in silence. Under one pretext or another, as workers, as Jews, or political prisoners, we were deported en masse. Everywhere, on billboards, in the newspapers, on the screen, we encountered the revolting and insipid picture of ourselves that our suppressors wanted us to accept. And because of this we were free. Because the Nazi venom seeped into our thoughts, every accurate thought was a conquest. Because an all-powerful police tried to force us to hold our tongues, every word took on the value of a declaration of principles. Because we were hunted down, every one of our gestures had the weight of a solemn commitment... And the choice that each of us made of his life was an authentic choice because it was made face to face with death... And here I am not speaking of the elite among us who were real Resistants, but of all Frenchmen who, at every hour of the night and day throughout four years, answered "No. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1432:INEZ: To forget about the others? How utterly absurd! I feel you there, in every pore.Your silence clamours in my ears. You can nail up your mouth, cut your tongue out - but you can't prevent your being there. Can you stop your thoughts? I hear them ticking away like a clock, tick-tock, tick-tock, and I'm certain you hear mine. It's all very well skulking on your sofa, but you're everywhere, and every sound comes to me soiled because you've intercepted it on its way. Why, you've even stolen my face; you know it and I don't ! And what about her, about Estelle? You've stolen her from me, too; if she and I were alone do you suppose she'd treat me as she does? No, take your hands from your face, I won't leave you in peace - that would suit your book too well. You'd go on sitting there, in a sort of trance, like a yogi, and even if I didn't see her I'd feel it in my bones - that she was making every sound, even the rustle of her dress, for your benefit, throwing you smiles you didn't see... Well, I won't stand for that, I prefer to choose my hell; I prefer to look you in the eyes and fight it out face to face. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1433:I haven’t had any adventures. Things have happened to me, events, incidents, anything you like. But not adventures. It isn’t a matter of words; I am beginning to understand. There is something I longed for more than all the rest - without realizing it properly. It wasn’t love, heaven forbid, nor glory, nor wealth. It was…anyway, I had imagined that at certain moments my life could take on a rare and precious quality. There was no need for extraordinary circumstances: all I asked for was a little order. There is nothing very splendid about my life at present: but now and then, for example when they played music in the cafés, I would l look back and say to myself: in the old days, in London, Meknés, Tokyo, I have known wonderful moments, I have had adventures. It is that which has been taken away from me now. I have just learnt, all of a sudden, for no apparent reason, that I have been lying to myself for ten years. Adventures are in books. And naturally, everything they tell you about in books can happen in real life, but not in the same way. It was to this way of happening that I attached so much importance. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1434:Kendini daha fazla kapıp koyuvermişe benzeyen bazı yüzlerde, biraz hüzün görür gibi oldum. Hayır, hüzünlü değildi onlar. Neşeli de değillerdi. Dinleniyorlardı sadece. Fal taşı gibi açılmış durağan gözleri, denizi ve gökyüzünü yansıtmaktan başka şey yapmıyordu. Birazdan evlerine dönecekler; yemek odasındaki masada, çoluk çocuk birlikte bir fincan çay içecekler. Şu anda elden geldiğince az güç harcayarak, davranışlarında, sözlerinde, düşüncelerinde tutumlu davranarak yaşamak istiyorlardı. Yüzlerindeki çizgileri, göz kenarlarındaki kırışıkları, haftalık çalışmanın verdiği acı yorgunlukları ortadan kaldırmak için bir tek gün vardı ellerinde, tek bir gün. Dakikaların ellerinden kayıp gittiğini duyuyorlardı. Pazartesi sabahı dokuzda evden çıkmak için gerekli gücü toplayacak zamanı bulacaklar mı acaba? Deniz havası canlandırıyordu onları. Derin derin solumaları bundan ötürü. Uyuyanlarınkine benzeyen, düzenli ve derin soluyuşlarından başka hiçbir şey, canlı olduklarını göstermiyordu. Parmaklarımın ucuna basarak yürüyordum. Dinlenip duran şu acıklı insanlar arasında, kaskatı ve taptaze gövdemi nr yapacağımı bilemiyordum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1435:Kendini daha fazla kapıp koyuvermişe benzeyen bazı yüzlerde, biraz hüzün görür gibi oldum. Hayır, hüzünlü değildi onlar. Neşeli de değillerdi. Dinleniyorlardı sadece. Fal taşı gibi açılmış durağan gözleri, denizi ve gökyüzünü yansıtmaktan başka şey yapmıyordu. Birazdan evlerine dönecekler; yemek odasındaki masada, çoluk çocuk birlikte bir fincan çay içecekler. Şu anda elden geldiğince az güç harcayarak, davranışlarında, sözlerinde, düşüncelerinde tutumlu davranarak yaşamak istiyorlardı. Yüzlerindeki çizgileri, göz kenarlarındaki kırışıkları, haftalık çalışmanın verdiği acı yorgunlukları ortadan kaldırmak için bir tek gün vardı ellerinde, tek bir gün. Dakikaların ellerinden kayıp gittiğini duyuyorlardı. Pazartesi sabahı dokuzda evden çıkmak için gerekli gücü toplayacak zamanı bulacaklar mı acaba? Deniz havası canlandırıyordu onları. Derin derin solumaları bundan ötürü. Uyuyanlarınkine benzeyen, düzenli ve derin soluyuşlar��ndan başka hiçbir şey, canlı olduklarını göstermiyordu. Parmaklarımın ucuna basarak yürüyordum. Dinlenip duran şu acıklı insanlar arasında, kaskatı ve taptaze gövdemi nr yapacağımı bilemiyordum. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1436:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that's all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. From time to time you make a semi-total: you say: I've been travelling for three years, I've been in Bouville for three years. Neither is there any end: you never leave a woman, a friend, a city in one go. And then everything looks alike: Shanghai, Moscow, Algiers, everything is the same after two weeks. There are moments—rarely—when you make a landmark, you realize that you're going with a woman, in some messy business. The time of a flash. After that, the procession starts again, you begin to add up hours and days: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. April, May, June.
1924, 1925, 1926.
That's living. But everything changes when you tell about life; it's a change no one notices: the
proof is that people talk about true stories. As if there could possibly be true stories; things happen one way and we tell about them in the opposite sense. You seem to start at the beginning: "It was a fine autumn evening... ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1437:Geleceği görüyorum. İşte orada, sokakta. Şimdiden daha silikçe. Daha ne bekliyor gerçekleşmek için sanki? Gelecek, bu ihtiyar kadına daha fazla ne sağlayabilir ki? İhtiyar kadın topallayarak uzaklaşıyor. Aniden duruyor. Başörtüsünden sarkan aklaşmış bir tutam saçı yana doğru itiyor. Yeniden yürümeye koyuluyor. Demin oradaydı, simdi ise burada... Hiç anlayamıyorum içinde bulunduğum durumu: Hareketlerini gerçekten görebiliyor muyum, yoksa onları tahmin mi ediyorum? Şimdiyi gelecekten hiç ayırt etmiyorum artık. Çünkü, sürüp gidiyor bu, yavaş da olsa gerçekleşiyor; ihtiyar, koskocaman erkek ayakkabılarını sürüye sürüye ilerliyor ıssız sokakta. Budur iste zaman, hem de çırılçıplak zaman, yavaşça var oluyor. Kendini beklettirir ve geldiğinde de tiksinti verir. Çünkü, zaten, uzun süredir onunla birlikte bulunulduğunun farkına varılır. İhtiyar, sokağın köşesine yaklaşıyor. Ufacık kara bir kumaş yığınından başka bir şey değildir artık o. Evet, doğru, bu, yeni bir şey. Demin orada değildi. Ama bu, insanı şaşırtmayan tatsız ve silik bir yenilik. Sokağın kösesini dönmek üzere ihtiyar kadın, dönüyor işte... bitmek bilmeyen bir süreden beri. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1438:The word “subjectivism” is to be understood in two senses, and our adversaries play upon only one of them. Subjectivism means, on the one hand, the freedom of the individual subject and, on the other, that man cannot pass beyond human subjectivity. It is the latter which is the deeper meaning of existentialism. When we say that man chooses himself, we do mean that every one of us must choose himself; but by that we also mean that in choosing for himself he chooses for all men. For in effect, of all the actions a man may take in order to create himself as he wills to be, there is not one which is not creative, at the same time, of an image of man such as he believes he ought to be. To choose between this or that is at the same time to affirm the value of that which is chosen; for we are unable ever to choose the worse. What we choose is always the better; and nothing can be better for us unless it is better for all. If, moreover, existence precedes essence and we will to exist at the same time as we fashion our image, that image is valid for all and for the entire epoch in which we find ourselves. Our responsibility is thus much greater than we had supposed, for it concerns mankind as a whole. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1439:My bones are leather and cardboard, my parchment smells of glue and mildew, and I strut at my ease across a hundredweight of paper. I am reborn, I have at last become a complete man, thinking, speaking, singing, thundering, and asserting himself with the peremptory inertia of matter. I am taken up, opened out, spread on the table, smoothed with the flat of the hand and sometimes made to crack. I let it happen and then suddenly I flash, dazzle, impose myself from a distance; my powers traverse space and time, strike down the wicked and protect the good. No one can forget me or pass me over in silence: I am a large, manageable, and terrible fetish. My consciousness is in fragments: all the better. Other consciousnesses have taken charge of me. They read me and I leap to their eyes; they talk about me and I am on everyone’s lips, a universal and singular language; I have made myself a prospective interest for millions of glances. For anyone who knows how to like me, I am his most intimate disquiet: but if he wants to touch me, I draw aside and vanish: I exist nowhere but I am, at last! I am everywhere: a parasite on humanity, by my good deeds I prey on it and force it endlessly to revive my absence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1440:So there are long conversations in cafés about Jean-Paul Sartre, and Simone de Beauvoir, and Albert Camus and Raymond Queneau, and all the boys that we were just beginning to get excited about in London when the first French literature filtered across after the Liberation. My God, Leo, there is some very interesting stuff being written in France at present on the philosophical and literary front. I begin to get some glimmering too about ‘existentialism’ the latest philosophy of France – Sartre, out of Husserl, Heidegger and Kierkegaard. Last week I had a very great experience. Jean-Paul Sartre came to Brussels to give a lecture on existentialism, and I met him after the lecture, and on the following day during an interminable café séance. He is small, squints appallingly, is very simple and charming in manner and extremely attractive. What versatility! Philosophy, novels, plays, cinema, journalism! No wonder the stuffy professional philosophers are suspicious. I don’t make much yet of his phenomenology, but his theories on morals, which derive from Kierkegaard, seem to me first rate and just what English philosophy needs to have injected into its veins, to expel the loathsome humours of Ross and Prichard. ~ Iris Murdoch, #NFDB
1441:Lecturile Autodidactului mă pun în încurcătură întotdeauna. Brusc, îmi revin în minte numele ultimilor autori pe care i-a consultat: Lambert, Langlois, Larbaletrier, Lastex, Lavergne. Dintr-o străfulgerare am înţeles metoda Autodidactului: se instruieşte în ordine alfabetică. Il contemplu cu un fel de admiraţie. Cîtă voinţă îi trebuie ca să realizeze încetul cu încetul, cu încăpăţînare, un proiect atît de vast? Într-o zi, acum şapte ani (mi-a mărturisit că studiază de şapte ani) a intrat cu mare pompă în această sală. A parcurs cu privirea nenumăratele cărţi care acoperă pereţii şi probabil a spus, asemenea lui Rastignac: «Intre noi doi acum, Cunoaştere omenească!» S-a dus apoi să ia prima carte din primul raft de la extrema dreaptă; a deschis-o la prima pagină cu un sentiment de respect şi de teamă, însoţit cu o hotărîre de neclintit. Astăzi se află la L. A trecut deodată de la studiul coleopterelor la cel al teoriei cuantelor. A citit tot; a înmagazinat în capul lui jumătate din ce se ştie despre partenogeneză, jumătate din argumentele împotriva vivisecţiei. În urma lui, înaintea lui, e un univers. Şi se apropie ziua cînd va spune, închizînd ultimul volum din ultimul raft de la extrema stîngă: «Şi acum?» ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1442:Talvez o senhor escreva para a posteridade. Mas queira ou não queira, para alguém escreve.
Mas é uma cilada: se consinto, o Autodidacta triunfa e sou imediatamente contornado, reivindicado, ultrapassado, porque o humanismo toma à sua conta e funda na mesma massa todas as atitudes humanas. Que agradável que é às vezes poder conversar assim, ao abandono.
Deitei um olhar à minha volta: móveis leves e soltos, e eu próprio. Era o que existia. O passado não existia. Nem as coisas, nem sequer no meu pensamento. Havia muito tempo que eu tinha compreendido que o meu me tinha escapado. Mas julgava, até então, que se tinha retirado do meu alcance. Para mim o passado era apenas entrada na reforma: era outra maneira de existir, um estado de férias e de inacção, cada acontecimento quando findara o seu papel se arrumava atinadamente, por si próprio, numa caixa e se tornava acontecimento honorário: tal é a dificuldade que se tem em imaginar o nada. Agora compreendia: a coisas são inteiramente o que parecem, e por trás delas...não há nada.Quando uma pessoa quer compreender uma coisa coloca-se diante dela, sem auxílio. De nada serviria todo o passado do mundo.
Acho que não temos de ir buscar tão longe o sentido da vida ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1443:I thought it was so stupid, so out of place, I hated this ignoble mess. Mounting up, mounting up as high as the sky, spilling over, filling everything with its gelatinous slither, and I could see depths upon depths of it reaching far beyond the limits of the garden, the houses, and Bouville, as far as the eye could reach. I was no longer in Bouville, I was nowhere, I was floating. I was not surprised, I knew it was the World, the naked World suddenly revealing itself, and I choked with rage at this gross, absurd being. You couldn’t even wonder where all that sprang from, or how it was that a world came into existence, rather than nothingness. It didn’t make sense, the World was everywhere, in front, behind. There had been nothing before it. Nothing. There had never been a moment in which it could not have existed. That was what worried me: of course there was no reason for this flowing larva to exist. But it was impossible for it is not to exist. It was unthinkable: to imagine nothingness you had to be there already, in the midst of the World, eyes wide open and alive; nothingness was only an idea in my head, an existing idea floating in this immensity: this nothingness had not come before existence, it was an existence like any other and appeared after many others. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1444:I glance around the room. What a comedy! All these people sitting there, looking serious, eating. No, they aren't eating: they are recuperating in order to successfully finish their tasks. Each one of them has his little personal difficulty which keeps him from noticing that he exists; there isn't one of them who doesn't believe himself indispensable to something or someone. Didn't the Self-Taught Man tell me the other day: "No one better qualified than Noucapie to undertake this vast synthesis?" Each one of them does one small thing and no one is better qualified than he to do it. No one is better qualified than the commercial traveler over there to sell Swan Toothpaste. No one better qualified than that interesting young man to put his hand under his girl friend's skirts. And I am among them and if they look at me they must think that no one is better qualified than I to do what I'm doing. But I know. I don't look like much, but I know I exist and that they exist. And if I knew how to convince people I'd go and sit down next to that handsome white-haired gentleman and explain to him just what existence means. I burst out laughing at the thought of the face he would make. The Self-Taught Man looks at me with surprise. I'd like to stop but I can't; I laugh until I cry. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1445:I slip Anny's letter back into my despatch case: she has done what she could; I cannot reach the woman who took it in her hands, folded and put it in the envelope. Is it possible even to think of someone in the past? As long as we loved each other, we never allowed the meanest of our instants, the smallest grief, to be detached and forgotten, left behind. Sounds, smells, nuances of light, even the thoughts we never told each other; we carried them all away and they remained alive: even now they have the power to give us joy and pain. Not a memory: an implacable, torrid love, without shadow, without escape, without shelter. Three years rolled into one. That is why we parted: we did not have enough strength to bear this burden. And then, when Anny left me, all of a sudden, all at once, the three years crumbled into the past. I didn't even surfer, I felt emptied out. Then time began to flow again and the emptiness grew larger. Then, in Saigon when I decided to go back to France, all that was still left—strange faces, places, quays on the banks of long rivers—all was wiped out. Now my past is nothing more than an enormous vacuum. My present: this waitress in the black blouse dreaming near the counter, this man. It seems as though I have learned all I know of life in books. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1446:Well, was it especially necessary for people to be impassioned, carried away by hatred or love, for example; or did the exterior aspect of the event have to be great, I mean—what you could see of it. . . .”
“Both . . . it all depended,” she answers ungraciously.
“And the perfect moments? Where do they come in?”
“They came afterwards. First there are annunciatory signs. Then the privileged situation, slowly, majestically, comes into people’s lives. Then the question whether you want to make a perfect moment out of it.”
“Yes,” I say, “I understand. In each one of these privileged situations there are certain acts which have to be done, certain attitudes to be taken, words which must be said—and other attitudes, other words are strictly prohibited. Is that it?”
“I suppose so. . . .”
“In fact, then, the situation is the material: it demands exploitation.”
“That’s it,” she says. “First you had to be plunged into something exceptional and feel as though you were putting it in order. If all those conditions had been realized, the moment would have been perfect.”
“In fact, it was a sort of work of art.”
“You’ve already said that,” she says with irritation. “No: it was . . . a duty. You had to transform privileged situations into perfect moments. It was a moral question. Yes, you can laugh if you like: it was moral. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1447:Nenhuma regra moral genérica pode indicar o que devemos fazer; não existem sinais outorgados no mundo. Os católicos replicarão: "Mas claro que há sinais". Admitamos, sou eu mesmo, em todo caso, que escolho o significado que eles têm. Quando eu estava preso, conheci um homem impressionante, que era jesuíta. Ele tinha entrado na ordem da seguinte forma: havia passado por uma série de infortúnios bastante dolorosos; ainda criança, seu pai foi morto, deixando-o pobre. Ele foi recebido como bolsista em uma instituição religiosa onde constantemente lhe repetiam que ele tinha sido aceito por caridade; consequentemente, ele não recebeu muitas das distinções honoríficas com que as crianças são gratificadas; depois, por volta dos dezoito anos, - coisa pueril, mas que foi a gota d'água que fez o vaso transbordar - ele foi reprovado em sua preparação militar. Portanto, esse rapaz podia achar que tudo tinha dado errado para ele; era um sinal, mas um sinal de quê? Ele podia refugiar-se na amargura ou no desespero, mas avaliou, muito habilmente para seu próprio bem, que esse era o sinal de que ele não fora feito para os triunfos seculares, e que só os êxitos da religião, da santidade e da fé é que estavam ao seu alcance. Assim, viu nisso uma mensagem divina e ingressou nas ordens. Quem não vê que a decisão do sentido do sinal foi tomada exclusivamente por ele? ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1448:If people throw up to us our works of fiction in which we write about people who are soft, weak, cowardly, and sometimes even downright bad, it's not be. cause these people are soft, weak, cowardly, or bad; because if we were to say, as Zola did, that they are that way because of heredity, the workings of environment, society, because of biological or psychological determinism, people would be reassured. They would say, "Well, that's what we're like, no one can do
anything about it." But when the existentialist writes about a coward, he says that this coward is responsible for his cowardice. He's not like that because he has a cowardly heart or lung or brain; he's not like that on account of his physiological make-up; but he's like that because he has made himself a coward by his acts. There's no such thing as a cowardly constitution; there are nervous constitutions; there is poor blood, as the common people say, or strong constitutions. But the man whose blood is poor is not a coward on that account, for what makes cowardice is the act of renouncing or yielding. A constitution is not an act; the coward is defined on the basis of the acts he performs. People feel, in a vague sort of way, that this coward we're talking about is guilty of being a coward, and the thought frightens them. What people would like is that a coward or a hero be born that way. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1449:Doktor Rogé kalvadosunu içti. İri gövdesi gevşiyor, gözkapakları iniyor. Yüzünü gözsüz olarak ilk kez görüyorum. Karnaval olduğu için bugün dükkanlarda satılan kağıttan maskelere benziyor. Yanaklarının pembeliği iğrenç... Birden kavrıyorum gerçeği: Bu adam yakında ölecek. Bunu bildiği besbelli, aynaya bakması yeter. Her gün ölüsüne biraz daha benziyor. Deney dedikleri bu işte. Deneylerin ölüm koktuğunu sık sık düşünmem de bu yüzdendir; onların son savunmasıdır bu. Doktor buna inanmak, yapayalnız, bomboş, geçmişsiz bir kimse olduğunu, zekasının körelip vücudunun çürümeye yüz tuttuğunu görmezden gelmek, bu korkunç gerçeği örtmek ister. O zaman bunun yerine koyacağı küçücük çılgınlığını kurmaya, onu en kullanışlı hale getirmeye çalışır, yani ilerlemeler gerçekleştirdiğini söyler kendine. Ara sıra düşüncesi duraklıyor, kafasında karanlıklar mı beliriyor? Yargılarının, gençlikteki hızdan yoksun olmalarındandır bu. Kitaplarda okuduklarını anlamıyor mu? Bu da artık kitaplarla ilgilenmemesindendir. Kadınla yatmak elinden gelmiyor mu? Olsun, bunu eskiden yapmıştı. Kadınla yatmış olmak, hâlâ yatabilmekten iyidir. Çünkü aradan zaman geçmiş olduğu için insan doğru yargılara varır, karşılaştırmalar yapar, üzerinde düşünür. Böylece Doktor, şu korkunç ölü yüzünü aynalarda görmeye dayanabilmek için, deneyin bütün izlerini yüzünde bırakmış olduğuna inanmaya çalışmaktadır. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1450:Someone will say, "I did not ask to be born." This is a naive way of throwing greater emphasis on our facticity. I am responsible for everything, in fact,
except for my very responsibility, for I am not the foundation of my being. Therefore everything takes place as if I were compelled to be responsible. I am abandoned in the world, not in the sense that I might remain abandoned and passive in a hostile universe like a board floating on the water, but rather in the sense that I find myself suddenly alone and without help, engaged in a world for which I bear the whole responsibility without being able, whatever I do, to tear myself away from this responsibility for an instant. For I am responsible for my very desire of fleeing responsibilities. To make myself passive in the world, to refuse to act upon things and upon Others is still to choose myself, and suicide is one mode among others of being-in-the-world. Yet I find an absolute responsibility for the fact that my facticity (here the fact of my birth) is directly inapprehensible and even inconceivable, for this fact of my birth never appears as a brute fact but always across a projective reconstruction of my for-itself. I am ashamed of being born or I am astonished at it or I rejoice over it, or in attempting to get rid of my life I affirm that I live and I assume this life as bad. Thus in a certain sense I choose being born. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1451:But everything changes when you tell about life; it's a change no one notices: the proof is that people talk about true stories. As if there could possibly be true stories; things happen one way and we tell about them in the opposite sense. You seem to start at the beginning: "It was a fine autumn eveningin 1922." And in reality you have started at the end. It was there, invisible and present, it is the one which gives to words the pomp and value of a beginning... And the story goes on in reverse: instants have stopped piling themselves in a lighthearted way one on top of the other, they are snapped up by the end of the story which draws them and each one of them in turn, draws out the preceding instant: "It was night, the street was deserted." The phrase is cast out negligently, it seems superfluous; but we do not let ourselves be caught and we put it aside: this is a piece of information whose value we shall subsequently appreciate. And we feel that the hero has lived all the details of this night like annunciations, promises, or even that he lived only those that were promises, blind and deaf to all that did not herald adventure. We forget that the future was not yet there; the man was walking in a night without forethought, a night which offered him a choice of dull rich prizes, and he did not make his choice.
I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1452:I began my life as I shall no doubt end it: among books. In my grandfather's study, they were everywhere; it was forbidden to dust them except once a year, before the October term. Even before I could read, I already revered these raised stones; upright or leaning, wedged together like bricks on the library shelves or nobly placed like avenues of dolmens, I felt that our family prosperity depended on them. They were all alike, and I was romping about in a tiny sanctuary, surrounded by squat, ancient monuments which had witnessed my birth, which would witness my death and whose permanence guaranteed me a future as calm as my past. I used to touch them in secret to honour my hands with their dust but I did not have much idea what to do with them and each day I was present at ceremonies whose meaning escaped me: my grandfather - so clumy, normally, that my grandmother buttoned his gloves for him - handled these cultural objects with the dexterity of an officiating priest. Hundreds of times I saw him get up absent-mindedly, walk round the table, cross the room in two strides, unhesitatingly pick out a volume without allowing himself time for choice, run through it as he went back to his armchair, with a combined movement of his thumb and right forefinger, and, almost before he sat down, open it with a flick "at the right page," making it creak like a shoe. I sometimes got close enough to observe these boxes which opened like oysters and I discovered the nakedness of their internal organs, pale, dank, slightly blistering pages, covered with small black veins, which drank ink and smelt of mildew. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1453:Şu tepenin üstünde, kendimi onlardan ne kadar uzak hissediyorum. Sanki başka türdenim ben. Bütün gün çalıştıktan sonra bürolardan çıkıyor, evlere ve meydanlara neşeyle bakıp, bu kentin, kendi kentleri olduğunu, bir 'güzel burjuva kenti' niteliği taşıdığını düşünüyorlar. Korkmuyorlar; kendi yurtlarında olduklarını duyuyorlar. Musluklardan akan evcil kent suyundan, düğme çevrilince ampullerden yayılan ışıktan, dayanaklarla desteklenmiş melez ağaçlardan başka şey bilmezler. Her şeyin bir mekanizmaya uyarak ortaya çıktığını, dünyanın belli ve değişmez yasalara göre işlediğini günde yüz kere görürler: Boşlukta, bütün nesneler aynı hızla düşer; park yazın her gün saat altıda, kışın da dörtte kapanır; kurşun 335 derecede erir; son tramvay Hotel de Ville'den on biri beş geçe kalkar. Durgun, biraz asık suratlı kimselerdir. Yarın'ı, yani bugünün bir tekrarını düşünürler; kentlerde her sabah yeniden orataya çıkan tek bir gün vardır. Pazarları, bu tek günü az buçuk süslerler. Avanaklar! Güven dolu, kalın suratlarını göreceğimi düşündükçe tiksinti kaplıyor içimi. Yasalar yaparlar, bayağı romanlar yazarlar, çocuk yapma budalalığına düşmekten kurtulamazlar. Ama o koskoca, ne idüğü belirsiz doğa, kentlerine girmiş, her tarafa, evlerine, bürolarına, kendilerine bile sızmıştır. Doğa kıpırdamaz, olduğu gibi durur; onlar, içleri dolduğu, doğayı soludukları halde farkında değillerdir. Kentin dışında, yirmi kilometre uzakta olduğunu sanırlar doğanın. Onu görüyorum ben,bu doğayı görüyorum. Baş eğişinin tembellikten geldiğini biliyorum; yasaları olmadığını da biliyorum, onun düzenliliği sandıkları şey...Doğanın alışkanlıkları var yalnız, yarın değiştirebilir onları. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1454:Tri sata. Tri sata, to je vrijeme kad je uvijek prekasno ili prerano za sve ono sto covjek kani uciniti. Cudan popodnevni trenutak. Danas je upravo nepodnosljiv"
"Ne slusam ih vise - idu mi na zivce. Ovo ce dvoje zavrsiti u krevetu. I oni to znaju. Svako od njih zna da i ono drugo zna. Ali, kako su mladi, cedni i pristojni, kako svako od njih zeli cuvati svoju cast i cast onoga drugoga, kako je ljubav velicanstvena poetska stvar koju ne valja poplasiti, oni odlaze viseput tjedno na ples i u restorane da pred svijetom izvode svoju predstavu, sa svojim malim obrednim i mehanickim plesovima...Na kraju krajeva, treba nekako utuci vrijeme. Mladi su i dobro gradjeni, imaju jos snage za tridesetak godina. Stoga im se ne zuri, sve nesto odgadjaju i imaju pravo. Kad jednom odspavaju zajedno, morat ce naci nesto drugo da prikriju golemi apsurd svoje egzistencije. Pa ipak...je li bas prijeko potrebno da lazu sami sebi?"
"Oduvijek su vidjeli samo ukrocenu vodu sto curi iz slavine, samo svjetlo sto izvire iz zarulje na prekidac, samo krizano, bastardno drvece poduprto rasljastim podupiracima. Sto puta na dan dobivaju dokaze da se sve radi mehanicki, da se svijet pokorava fiksnim i nepromjenjivim zakonima. Tijela pustena u prazninu padaju sva istom brzinom, javni park zatvara svakog dana u sesnaest sati,a ljeti u osamnaest, olovo se tali na 335 stupnjeva Celzijevih, posljednji tramvaj polazi od Gradske vjecnice u dvadeset tri sata i pet minuta. Oni su mirni, pomalo mrzovoljni, misle na sutrasnjicu, sto ce jednostavno reci na novu danasnjicu; u gradovima je uvijek jedan te isti dan koji se svakog jutra potpuno jednak vraca. Samo ga nedjeljom malo iskite, Idioti! ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1455:Nothing moves forward in a story except through conflict. Writers who cannot grasp this truth, the truth of conflict, writers who have been misled by the counterfeit comforts of modern life into believing that life is easy once you know how to play the game.
These writers give conflict a false inflection. The scripts they write fail for one of two reasons, either a glut of banal conflict or a lack of meaningful conflict. The former are exercises in turbo special effects written by those who follow textbook imperatives to create conflict but because they're disinterested in or insensitive to the honest struggles of life, devise overwrought excuses for mayhem. The latter are tedious portraits written in reaction against conflict itself, these writers take the pollyanna view, that life would really be nice if it weren't for conflict.
What writers at these extremes fail to realize is that while the quality of conflict in life changes as it shifts from level to level, the quantity of conflict is constant. When we remove conflict from one level of life, it amplifies ten times over on another level. When, for example, we don't have to work from dawn to dark to put bread on the table, we now have time to reflect on the great conflict within our mind and heart or we may become aware of the terrible tyrannies and suffering in the world at large.
As Jean-Paul Sartre expressed it, "The essence of reality is scarcity. There isn't enough love in the world, enough food, enough justice, enough time in life. To gain any sense of satisfaction in our life we must go in to heady conflict with the forces of scarcity. To be alive is to be in perpetual conflict at one or all three levels of our lives. ~ Robert McKee,#NFDB
1456:[S]omeone might be sleeping in his comfortable bed, in his quiet, warm room, and wake up naked on a bluish earth, in a forest of rustling birch trees, rising red and white towards the sky like the smokestacks of Jouxtebouville, with big bumps half-way out of the ground, hairy and bulbous like onions. And birds will fly around these birch trees and pick at them with their beaks and make them bleed. Sperm will flow slowly, gently, from these wounds, sperm mixed with blood, warm and glassy with little bubbles. Or else nothing like that will happen, there will be no appreciable change, but one morning people will open their blinds and be surprised by a sort of frightful sixth sense, brooding heavily over things and seeming to pause. Nothing more than that: but for the little time it lasts, there will be hundreds of suicides. Yes! Let it change just a little, just to see, I don’t ask for anything better. Then you will see other people, suddenly plunged into solitude. Men all alone, completely alone with horrible monstrosities, will run through the streets, pass heavily in front of me, their eyes staring, fleeing their ills yet carrying them with them, open-mouthed, with their insect-tongue flapping its wings. Then I’ll burst out laughing even though my body may be covered with filthy, infected scabs which blossom into flowers of flesh, violets, buttercups. I’ll lean against a wall and when they go by I’ll shout: “What’s the matter with your science? What have you done with your humanism? Where is your dignity?” I will not be afraid—or at least no more than now. Will it not still be existence, variations on existence? All these eyes which will slowly devour a face—they will undoubtedly be too much, but no more so than the first two, Existence is what I am afraid of. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1457:I jump up: it would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there's no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns: "I have to fi. . . I ex. . . Dead . . . M. de Roll is dead . . . I am not ... I ex. . ." It goes, it goes . . . and there's no end to it. It's worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. The body lives by itself once it has begun. But though I am the one who continues it, unrolls it. I exist. How serpentine is this feeling of existing, I unwind it, slowly. ... If I could keep myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: my head seems to fill with smoke . . . and then it starts again: "Smoke . . . not to think . . . don't want to think ... I think I don't want to think. I mustn't think that I don't want to think. Because that's still a thought." Will there never be an end to it?
My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think . . . and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment, it's frightful, if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head ... if I yield, they're going to come round in front of me, between my eyes, and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1458:I jump up: it would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there’s no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns: “I have to fi. . . I ex. . . Dead . . . M. de Roll is dead . . . I am not . . . I ex. . .” It goes, it goes . . . and there’s no end to it. It’s worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. The body lives by itself once it has begun. But thought—I am the one who continues it, unrolls it. I exist. How serpentine is this feeling of existing—I unwind it, slowly. . . . If I could keep myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: my head seems to fill with smoke . . . and then it starts again: “Smoke . . . not to think . . . don’t want to think . . . I think I don’t want to think. I mustn’t think that I don’t want to think. Because that’s still a thought.” Will there never be an end to it?
My thought is me: that’s why I can’t stop. I exist because I think . . . and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment—it’s frightful—if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head . . . if I yield, they’re going to come round in front of me, between my eyes—and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1459:But everything changes when you tell about life; it's a change no one notices: the proof is that people talk about true stories. As if there could possibly be true stories; things happen one way and we tell about them in the opposite sense. You seem to start at the beginning: "It was a fine autumn evening in 1922. I was a notary's clerk in Marommes." And in reality you have started at the end. It was there, invisible and present, it is the one which gives to words the pomp and value of a beginning. "I was out walking, I had left the town without realizing it, I was thinking about my money troubles." This sentence, taken simply for what it is, means that the man was absorbed, morose, a hundred leagues from an adventure, exactly in the mood to let things happen without noticing them. But the end is there, transforming everything. For us, the man is already the hero of the story. His moroseness, his money troubles are much more precious than ours, they are all gilded by the light of future passions. And the story goes on in the reverse: instants have stopped piling themselves in lighthearted way one on top of the other, they are snapped up by the end of the story which draws them and each of them in turn, draws out the preceding instant. "it was night, the street was deserted." The phrase is cast out negligently, it seems superfluous; but we do not let ourselves be caught and we put it aside: this a piece of information whose value we shall subsequently appreciate. And we feel that the hero has lived all the details of this night like annunciations, promises, or even that he lived only those that were promises, blind and deaf to all that did not herald adventure. We forget that the future was not yet there; the man was walking in a night without forethought, a night which offered him a choice of due rich prizes, and he did not make his choice. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1460:When we realize that the path is the goal, there’s a sense of workability. Trungpa Rinpoche said, “Whatever occurs in the confused mind is regarded as the path. Everything is workable. It is a fearless proclamation, the lion’s roar.” Everything that occurs in our confused mind we can regard as the path. Everything is workable. If we find ourselves in what seems like a rotten or painful situation and we think, “Well, how is this enlightenment?” we can just remember this notion of the path, that what seems undesirable in our lives doesn’t have to put us to sleep. What seems undesirable in our lives doesn’t have to trigger habitual reactions. We can let it show us where we’re at and let it remind us that the teachings encourage precision and gentleness, with loving-kindness toward every moment. When we live this way, we feel frequently—maybe continuously—at a crossroads, never knowing what’s ahead. It’s an insecure way to live. We often find ourselves in the middle of a dilemma—what should I do about the fact that somebody is angry with me? What should I do about the fact that I’m angry with somebody? Basically, the instruction is not to try to solve the problem but instead to use it as a question about how to let this very situation wake us up further rather than lull us into ignorance. We can use a difficult situation to encourage ourselves to take a leap, to step out into that ambiguity. This teaching applies to even the most horrendous situations life can dish out. Jean-Paul Sartre said that there are two ways to go to the gas chamber, free or not free. This is our choice in every moment. Do we relate to our circumstances with bitterness or with openness? That is why it can be said that whatever occurs can be regarded as the path and that all things, not just some things, are workable. This teaching is a fearless proclamation of what’s possible for ordinary people like you and me. ~ Pema Ch dr n, #NFDB
1461:Bald sind sie allein auf der Tanzfläche, und Pierre führt seine Partnerin schon viel sicherer.
“Was haben sie mir denn da vorgemacht?” sagt Ève. “Sie tanzen doch sehr gut.”
“Das ist das erste Mal, dass man mir das sagt.”
“Sie brauchten eben mich als Tänzerin.”
“Ich glaube es fast …”
Sie sehen sich an und tanzen eine Weile schweigend.
“Sagen Sie”, fragte Pierre plötzlich, “was geht hier eigentlich vor? Vorhin dachte ich nur an meine Sorgen, und jetzt bin ich hier … Ich tanze und sehe nur Ihr Lächeln … Wenn das der Tod … wäre …”
“Das?”
“Ja. Mit Ihnen tanzen, immer, nichts sehen als Sie, alles andere vergessen …”
“Ja, und?”
“Der Tod wäre besser als das Leben. Finden sie nicht auch?”
“Halten Sie mich fester”, haucht sie.
Ihre Gesichter sind einander ganz nahe. Sie tanzen noch einen Augenblick weiter, und sie wiederholt:
“Halten sie mich fester…”
Plötzlich wird Pierres Gesicht traurig. Er hört auf zu tanzen, rückt ein wenig von Ève ab und murmelt:
“Es ist ja alles Theater. Ich habe Ihre Taille nicht einmal berührt …”
Ève begreift nun ebenfalls:
“Wahrhaftig”, sagt sie langsam, “wir tanzen jeder für sich …”
Sie bleiben voreinander stehen.
Dann streckt Pierre die Hände aus, als wolle er sie auf die Schultern der jungen Frau legen, dann zieht er sie unwillig wieder zurück:
“Mein Gott”, sagt er, “wie süß wäre es, Ihre Schultern zu berühren. Ich möchte so gerne Ihren Atem spüren, wenn Sie mich anlächeln. Aber auch das habe ich verpasst. Ich bin ihnen zu spät begegnet …”
Ève legt Pierre die Hand auf die Schulter.
Sie sieht ihn liebevoll an:
“Ich gäbe meine Seele dafür hin, einen Augenblick lang wieder zu leben und mit Ihnen zu tanzen.”
“Ihre Seele?”
“Das ist alles, was wir noch besitzen.”
Pierre nähert sich seiner Begleiterin und umfasst sie von neuem. Sie beginnen wieder zu tanzen, sehr zart, Wange an Wange, mit geschlossenen Augen. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1462:Couldn't I try...Naturally, it wouldn't be a question of a tune...But couldn't I in another medium?...It would have to be a book: I don't know how to do anything else. But not a history book: history talks about what has existed - an existent can never justify the existence of another existent. My mistake was to try to resuscitate Monsieur de Rollebon. Another kind of book. I don't quite know which kind - but you would have to guess, behind the printed words, behind the pages, something which didn't exist, which was above existence. The sort of story, for example, which could never happen, an adventure. It would have to be beautiful and hard as steel and make people ashamed of their existence.
I am going, I feel irresolute. I dare not make a decision. If I were sure that I had talent...but I have never, never written anything of that sort; historical articles, yes - if you could call them that. A book. A novel. And there would be people who would read this novel and who would say: 'It was Antoine Roquentin who wrote it, he was a red-headed fellow who hung about in cafés', and they would think that about my life as I think about the life of the Negress: as about something precious and almost legendary. A book. Naturally, at first it would only be a tedious, tiring job, it wouldn't prevent me from existing or from feeling that I exist. But a time would have to come when the book would be written, would be behind me, and I think that a little of its light would fall over my past. Then, through it, I might be able to recall my life without repugnance. Perhaps one day, thinking about this very moment, about this dismal moment at which I am waiting, round-shouldered, for it to be time to get on the train, perhaps I might feel my heart beat faster and say to myself: 'It was on that day, at that moment that it all started.' And I might succeed - in the past, simply in the past - in accepting myself. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1463:A real panic took hold of me. I didn't know where I was going. I ran along the docks, turned into the deserted streets in the Beauvoisis district; the houses watched my flight with their mournful eyes. I repeated with anguish: Where shall I go? where shall I go? Anything can happen. Sometimes, my heart pounding, I made a sudden right about turn: what was happening behind my back? Maybe it would start behind me and when I would turn around, suddenly, it would be too late. As long as I could stare at things nothing would happen: I looked at them as much as I could, pavements, houses, gaslights; my eyes went rapidly from one to the other, to catch them unawares, stop them in the midst of their metamorphosis. They didn't look too natural, but I told myself forcibly: this is a gaslight, this is a drinking fountain, and I tried to reduce them to their everyday aspect by the power of my gaze. Several times I came across barriers in my path: the Cafe des Bretons, the Bar de la Marine. I stopped, hesitated in front of their pink net curtains: perhaps these snug places had been spared, perhaps they still held a bit of yesterday's world, isolated, forgotten. But I would have to push the door open and enter. I didn't dare; I went on. Doors of houses frightened me especially. I was afraid they would open of themselves. I ended by walking in the middle of the street.
I suddenly came out on the Quai des Bassins du Nord. Fishing smacks and small yachts. I put my foot on a ring set in the stone. Here, far from houses, far from doors, I would have a moment of respite. A cork was floating on the calm, black speckled water.
"And under the water? You haven't thought what could be under the water."
A monster? A giant carapace? sunk in the mud? A dozen pairs of claws or fins labouring slowly in the slime. The monster rises. At the bottom of the water. I went nearer, watching every eddy and undulation. The cork stayed immobile among the black spots. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1464:Let us see what words can do. Will you understand me, for a start, if I tell you that I have never known what I am? My vices, my virtues, are under my nose, but I can’t see them, nor stand far enough back to view myself as a whole. I seem to be a sort of flabby mass in which words are engulfed; no sooner do I name myself than what is named is merged in him who names, and one gets no farther. I have often wanted to hate myself and, as you know, had good reasons for so doing. But my attempted hatred of myself was absorbed into my insubstantiality and was nothing but a recollection. I could not love myself either, I am sure, though I have never tried to. But I was eternally compelled to be myself; I was my own burden, but never burdensome enough, Mathieu. For one instant, on that June evening when I elected to confess to you, I thought I had encountered myself in your bewildered eyes.
You saw me, in your eyes I was solid and predictable; my acts and moods were the actual consequences of a definite entity. And through me you knew that entity. I described it to you in my words, I revealed to you facts unknown to you, which had helped you to visualize it. And yet you saw it, I merely saw you seeing it. For one instant you were the heaven-sent mediator between me and myself, you perceived that compact and solid entity which I was and wanted to be in just as simple and ordinary a way as I perceived you. For, after all, I exist, I am, though I have no sense of being; and it is an exquisite torment to discover in oneself such utterly unfounded certainty, such unsubstantiated pride. I then understood that one could not reach oneself except through another’s judgment, another’s hatred. And also through another’s love perhaps; but there is here no question of that. For this revelation I am not ungrateful to you. I do not know how you would describe our present relations. Not goodwill, nor wholly hatred. Put it that there is a corpse between us. My corpse. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1465:A non-religious man today ignores what he considers sacred but, in the structure of his consciousness, could not be without the ideas of being and the meaningful. He may consider these purely human aspects of the structure of consciousness. What we see today is that man considers himself to have nothing sacred, no god; but still his life has a meaning, because without it he could not live; he would be in chaos. He looks for being and does not immediately call it being, but meaning or goals; he behaves in his existence as if he had a kind of center. He is going somewhere, he is doing something. We do not see anything religious here; we just see man behaving as a human being. But as a historian of religion, I am not certain that there is nothing religious here…
I cannot consider exclusively what that man tells me when he consciously says, ‘I don’t believe in God; I believe in history,’ and so on. For example, I do not think that Jean-Paul Sartre gives all of himself in his philosophy, because I know that Sartre sleeps and dreams and likes music and goes to the theater. And in the theater he gets into a temporal dimension in which he no longer lives his ‘moment historique.’ There he lives in quite another dimension. We live in another dimension when we listen to Bach. Another experience of time is given in drama. We spend two hours at a play, and yet the time represented in the play occupies years and years. We also dream. This is the complete man. I cannot cut this complete man off and believe someone immediately when he consciously says that he is not a religious man. I think that unconsciously, this man still behaves as the ‘homo religiosus,’ has some source of value and meaning, some images, is nourished by his unconscious, by the imaginary universe of the poems he reads, of the plays he sees; he still lives in different universes. I cannot limit his universe to that purely self-conscious, rationalistic universe which he pretends to inhabit, since that universe is not human. ~ Mircea Eliade,#NFDB
1466:Ben de olmak istemiştim. Hatta bundan başka bir şey istemedim. İşte hayatımın gizli temeli: Aralarında ilişki yok gibi görülen bütün çabalarımın altında aynı isteği buluyorum:varoluşu içimden atmak,anları yağlarından sıyırmak,bükmek, kurutmak, kendimi temizlemek, katılaştırmak, sonunda bir saksafon notasının kesin ve belirli sesini verebilmek. Bu bir kıssa konusu bile olabilir. Şöyle anlatabiliriz: Yanlış dünyaya gelmiş bir zavallı vardı. Öteki insanlar gibi, parkların, kahvelerin, ticaret kentlerinin dünyasında var olup gidiyor ve tabloların ardından Tintoretto'nun devlet adamları, Gozzoli'nin cesur Floransalarıyla; kitap sayfalarının ardında Fabrice del Dongo ve Julien Sorel ile gramofon plaklarının ardında kupkuru, uzun caz yakarışlarıyla birlikte, bambaşka dünyalarda yaşadığına kendini inandırmak istiyordu. İyice sersemlik ettikten sonra durumu kavradı; artık gözleri açılmıştı, bunda bir yanlışlık olduğunu anladı; aslında bir kahvede, bir bardak ılık biranın karşısındaydı. Oturduğu yerde ne yapacağını bilmeden kaldı; 'Ben bir budalayım,' diye düşündü. Tam bu sırada, varoluşun öbür yakasında, ancak uzaktan görülebilen ve yaklaşılamayan öteki dünyada, ufak bir melodi dans etmeye, şarkı söylemeye başladı. 'Benim gibi olmak, ölçüyle acı çekmek gerek.'
Ses söylüyor:
Some of these days
You'll miss me honey
Plağın burası çizilmiş olmalı, cızırdayıp duruyor. Ama insanın içini daraltan bir şey var. O da şu: İğnenin plak üzerinde öyle kısaca öksürmesi, melodiye hiç dokunmuyor. Melodi öyle uzakta ki! Bunu da anlıyorum, plak çizik olup eskiyebilir, şarkıcı kadın belki de ölmüştür, ben birazdan buradan ayrılıp trenime bineceğim. Ama bir şimdi'den öteki şimdi'ye düşen geçmişsiz ve geleceksiz varoluş ardında, her gün biraz daha ayrışan, pul pul dökülen ve ölüme doğru kayan şu seslerin ardında melodi, hiç değişmeden, sımsıkı ve genç bir halde acımasız bir tanık gibi duruyor.
(...)
Zenci kadın söylüyor. İnsan varoluşunu haklı çıkarabilir mi yani? Azıcık haklı çıkarabilir mi? ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1467:I feel so far away from them, on the top of this hill. It seems as though I belong to another species. They come out of their offices after their day of work, they look at the houses and the squares with satisfaction, they think it is their city, a good, solid, bourgeois city. They aren’t afraid, they feel at home. All they have ever seen is trained water running from taps, light which fills bulbs when you turn on the switch, half-breed, bastard trees held up with crutches. They have proof, a hundred times a day, that everything happens mechanically, that the world obeys fixed, unchangeable laws. In a vacuum all bodies fall at the same rate of speed, the public park is closed at 4 p.m. in winter, at 6 p.m. in summer, lead melts at 335 degrees centigrade, the last streetcar leaves the Hotel de Ville at 11.05 p.m. They are peaceful, a little morose, they think about Tomorrow, that is to say, simply, a new today; cities have only one day at their disposal and every morning it comes back exactly the same. They scarcely doll it up a bit on Sundays. Idiots. It is repugnant to me to think that I am going to see their thick, self-satisfied faces. They make laws, they write popular novels, they get married, they are fools enough to have children. And all this time, great, vague nature has slipped into their city, it has infiltrated everywhere, in their house, in their office, in themselves. It doesn’t move, it stays quietly and they are full of it inside, they breathe it, and they don’t see it, they imagine it to be outside, twenty miles from the city. I see it, I see this nature . . . I know that its obedience is idleness, I know it has no laws: what they take for constancy is only habit and it can change tomorrow.
What if something were to happen? What if something suddenly started throbbing? Then they would notice it was there and they’d think their hearts were going to burst. Then what good would their dykes, bulwarks, power houses, furnaces and pile drivers be to them? It can happen any time, perhaps right now: the omens are present. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1468:What if something were to happen? What if something suddenly started throbbing? Then they would notice it was there and they'd think their hearts were going to burst. Then what good would their dykes, bulwarks, power houses, furnaces and pile drivers be to them? It can happen any time, perhaps right now: the omens are present. For example, the father of a family might go out for a walk, and, across the street, he'll see something like a red rag, blown towards him by the wind. And when the rag has gotten close to him he'll see that it is a side of rotten meat, grimy with dust, dragging itself along by crawling, skipping, a piece of writhing flesh rolling in the gutter, spasmodically shooting out spurts of blood. Or a mother might look at her child's cheek and ask him: "What's that, a pimple?" and see the flesh puff out a little, split, open, and at the bottom of the split an eye, a laughing eye might appear. Or they might feel things gently brushing against their bodies, like the caresses of reeds to swimmers in a river. And they will realize that their clothing has become living things. And someone else might feel something scratching in his mouth. He goes to the mirror, opens his mouth: and his tongue is an enormous, live centipede, rubbing its legs together and scraping his palate. He'd like to spit it out, but the centipede is a part of him and he will have to tear it out with his own hands. And a crowd of things will appear for which people will have to find new names, stone eye, great three cornered arm, toe crutch, spider jaw. And someone might be sleeping in his comfortable bed, in his quiet, warm room, and wake up naked on a bluish earth, in a forest of rustling birch trees, rising red and white towards the sky like the smokestacks of Jouxtebouville, with big bumps half way out of the ground, hairy and bulbous like onions. And birds will fly around these birch trees and pick at them with their beaks and make them bleed. Sperm will flow slowly, gently, from these wounds, sperm mixed with blood, warm and glassy with little bubbles. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1469:Gömleğinin üzerindeki o iki tanımlanamaz leke, gözümün önünde yeniden belirdi. Ya çakıl taşı, bütün bu hikayenin başlangıcı olan şu ünlü çakıl taşı yok mu, o da...ne olmak istemediğini şimdi pek iyi hatırlamıyordum. Ama onun edilgen direncini unutmamıştım. Ya Otodidakt'ın eli? Bir gün kitaplıkta bu eli sıkmış ve bunun bir ele benzemediğini duymuştum. Kocaman beyaz bir kurt gelmişti aklıma, ama tam bu da değildi. Hele Mably Kahvesi'ndeki bira bardağının ne idüğü belirsiz saydamlığı. Ne idüğü belirsiz! İşte seslerin, kokuların, tatların özelliği. Yuvalarından uğratılmış tavşanlar gibi, önünüzden hızla geçtikleri ve onlara fazla dikkat etmediğiniz zaman, güven verici ve düpedüz varlıklar olduklarına inanabilirdiniz...Yeryüzünde, gerçek mavi, gerçek kırmızı, bir gerçek kayısı ya da menekşe kokusu olduğuna inanabilirdiniz. Ama onları bir an durdurduğunuzda, bu güven ve rahatlık duygusu yerini derin bir tedirginliğe bırakıyordu: Renkler, tatlar ve kokular hiçbir zaman gerçek değildi, hiçbir zaman kendileri ve sadece kendileri olarak kalmıyorlardı. En yalın niteliğin bile, kendinde, kendisi bakımından ta içinde ta içinde bir fazlalık vardı. Şurada, ayağımın altında duran şu siyah, siyahtan çok, bu rengi hiç görmemiş, ama hayal gücünü durdurmasını beceremeyen bir kimsenin, siyahı hayal etmek için harcadığı çabayı hatırlatıyordu.Bu çabayla o kimse, renklerin ötesinde ne idüğü belirsiz bir varlık düşünmüştü.Bu, bir renge benziyordu, ama aynı zamanda...bir çürüğe,bir salgıya,bir sızıntıya da benziyordu. Başka bir şeye, sözgelimi bir kokuya da benziyordu. Çünkü bu, ıslak toprak, yaş ve ısınmış odun kokusu, şu sinirli ağaç parçası üzerine cila gibi yayılmış siyah koku, çiğnenmiş şekerli lif tadı içinde eriyordu. Bu siyah rengi tek başına görmüyordum, görme gücü soyut bir icat; temizlenmiş, yalınlaştırılmış bir düşünce; insanların bir düşüncesidir. Şuradaki siyah, biçimden yoksun ve tüylü şu bulunuş; görme, koklama ve tatma güçlerini aşıp geçiyor, onlardan taşıyordu. Ama bu zenginlik, bir kargaşa haline giriyor ve fazlalık olduğu için, sonunda bir hiçlik ortaya çıkıyordu. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1470:Demanding yet denying the human condition makes for an explosive contradiction. And explode it does, as you and I know. And we live in an age of conflagration: it only needs the rising birth rate to worsen the food shortage, it only needs the newly born to fear living a little more than dying, and for the torrent of violence to sweep away all the barriers. In Algeria and Angola, Europeans are massacred on sight. This is the age of the boomerang, the third stage of violence: it flies right back at us, it strikes us and, once again, we have no idea what hit us. The "liberals" remain stunned: they admit we had not been polite enough to the "natives," that it would have been wiser and fairer to grant them certain rights, wherever possible; they would have been only too happy to admit them in batches without a sponsor to that exclusive club -- the human species; and now this barbaric explosion of madness is putting them in the same boat as the wretched colonists. The metropolitan Left is in a quandary: it is well aware of the true fate of the "natives," the pitiless oppression they are subjected to, and does not condemn their revolt, knowing that we did everything to provoke it. But even so, it thinks, there are limits: these guerrillas should make every effort to show some chivalry; this would be the best way of proving they are men. Sometimes the Left berates them: "You're going too far; we cannot support you any longer." They don't care a shit for its support; it can shove it up its ass for what it's worth. As soon as the war began, they realized the harsh truth: we are all equally as good as each other. We have all taken advantage of them, they have nothing to prove, they won't give anyone preferential treatment. A single duty, a single objective: drive out colonialism by every means. And the most liberal among us would be prepared to accept this, at a pinch, but they cannot help seeing in this trial of strength a perfectly inhuman method used by subhumans to claim for themselves a charter for humanity: let them acquire it as quickly as possible, but in order to merit it, let them use nonviolent methods. Our noble souls are racist. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1471:Now when I say “I,” it seems hollow to me. I can’t manage to feel myself very well, I am so forgotten. The only real thing left in me is existence which feels it exists. I yawn, lengthily. No one. Antoine Roquentin exists for on one. That amuses me. And just what is Antoine Roquentin? An abstraction. A pale reflection of myself wavers in my consciousness. Antoine Roquentin . . . and suddenly the “I” pales, pales, and fades out.
Lucid, forlorn, consciousness is walled-up; it perpetuates itself. Nobody lives there any more. A little while ago someone said “me,” said my consciousness. Who? Outside there were streets, alive with known smells and colours. Now nothing is left but anonymous walls, anonymous consciousness. That is what there is: walls, and between the walls, a small transparency, alive and impersonal. Consciousness exists as a tree, as a blade of grass. It slumbers, it grows bored. Small fugitive presences populate it like birds in the branches. Populate it and disappear. Consciousness forgotten, forsaken between these walls, under this grey sky. And here is the sense of its existence: it is conscious of being superfluous. It dilutes, scatters itself, tries to lose itself on the brown wall, along the lamp post or down there in the evening mist. But it never forgets itself. That is its lot. There is a stifled voice which tells it: “The train leaves in two hours,” and there is the consciousness of this voice. There is also consciousness of a face. It passes slowly, full of blood, spattered, and its bulging eyes weep. It is not between the walls, it is nowhere. It vanishes; a bent body with a bleeding face replaces it, walks slowly away, seems to stop at each step, never stops. There is a consciousness of this body walking slowly in a dark street. It walks but it gets no further away. The dark street does not end, it loses itself in nothingness. It is not between the walls, it is nowhere. And there is consciousness of a stifled voice which says: “The Self-Taught Man is wandering through the city.”
Not the same city, not between these toneless walls, the Self-Taught Man walks in a city where he is not forgotten. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1472:Nothing happens while you live. The scenery changes, people come in and go out, that’s all. There are no beginnings. Days are tacked on to days without rhyme or reason, an interminable, monotonous addition. From time to time you make a semi-total: you say: I’ve been travelling for three years, I’ve been in Bouville for three years. Neither is there any end: you never leave a woman, a friend, a city in one go. And then everything looks alike: Shanghai, Moscow, Algiers, everything is the same after two weeks. There are moments—rarely—when you make a landmark, you realize that you’re going with a woman, in some messy business. The time of a flash. After that, the procession starts again, you begin to add up hours and days: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday. April, May, June. 1924, 1925, 1926.
That’s living. But everything changes when you tell about life; it’s a change no one notices: the proof is that people talk about true stories. As if there could possibly be true stories; things happen one way and we tell about them in the opposite sense. [...] “I was out walking, I had left the town without realizing it, I was thinking about my money troubles.” This sentence, taken simply for what it is, means that the man was absorbed, morose, a hundred leagues from an adventure, exactly in the mood to let things happen without noticing them. But the end is there, transforming everything. For us, the man is already the hero of the story. His moroseness, his money troubles are much more precious than ours, they are all gilded by the light of future passions. And the story goes on in the reverse: instants have stopped piling themselves in a lighthearted way one on top of the other, they are snapped up by the end of the story which draws them and each one of them in turn, draws out the preceding instant: “It was night, the street was deserted.” The phrase is cast out negligently, it seems superfluous; but we do not let ourselves be caught and we put it aside: this is a piece of information whose value we shall subsequently appreciate. And we feel that the hero has lived all the details of this night like annunciations, promises, or even that he lived only those that were promises, blind and deaf to all that did not herald adventure. We forget that the future was not yet there; the man was walking in a night without forethought, a night which offered him a choice of dull rich prizes, and he did not make his choice.
I wanted the moments of my life to follow and order themselves like those of a life remembered. You might as well try and catch time by the tail. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1473:reading :::
50 Philosophy Classics: List of Books Covered:
1. Hannah Arendt - The Human Condition (1958)
2. Aristotle - Nicomachean Ethics (4th century BC)
3. AJ Ayer - Language, Truth and Logic (1936)
4. Julian Baggini - The Ego Trick (2011)
5. Jean Baudrillard - Simulacra and Simulation (1981)
6. Simone de Beauvoir - The Second Sex (1952)
7. Jeremy Bentham - Principles of Morals and Legislation (1789)
8. Henri Bergson - Creative Evolution (1911)
9. David Bohm - Wholeness and the Implicate Order (1980)
10. Noam Chomsky - Understanding Power (2002)
11. Cicero - On Duties (44 BC)
12. Confucius - Analects (5th century BC)
13. Rene Descartes - Meditations (1641)
14. Ralph Waldo Emerson - Fate (1860)
15. Epicurus - Letters (3rd century BC)
16. Michel Foucault - The Order of Things (1966)
17. Harry Frankfurt - On Bullshit (2005)
18. Sam Harris - Free Will (2012)
19. GWF Hegel - Phenomenology of Spirit (1803)
20. Martin Heidegger - Being and Time (1927)
21. Heraclitus - Fragments (6th century)
22. David Hume - An Enquiry Concerning Human Understanding (1748)
23. William James - Pragmatism (1904)
24. Daniel Kahneman - Thinking: Fast and Slow (2011)
25. Immanuel Kant - Critique of Pure Reason (1781)
26. Soren Kierkegaard - Fear and Trembling (1843)
27. Saul Kripke - Naming and Necessity (1972)
28. Thomas Kuhn - The Structure of Scientific Revolutions (1962)
29. Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz - Theodicy (1710)
30. John Locke - An Essay Concerning Human Understanding (1690)
31. Marshall McLuhan - The Medium is the Massage (1967)
32. Niccolo Machiavelli - The Prince (1532)
33. John Stuart Mill - On Liberty (1859)
34. Michel de Montaigne - Essays (1580)
35. Iris Murdoch - The Sovereignty of Good (1970)
36. Friedrich Nietzsche - Beyond Good and Evil (1886)
37. Blaise Pascal - Pensees (1670)
38. Plato - The Republic (4th century BC)
39. Karl Popper - The Logic of Scientific Discovery (1934)
40. John Rawls - A Theory of Justice (1971)
41. Jean-Jacques Rousseau - The Social Contract (1762)
42. Bertrand Russell - The Conquest of Happiness (1920)
43. Michael Sandel - Justice (2009)
44. Jean Paul Sartre - Being and Nothingness (1943)
45. Arthur Schopenhauer - The World as Will and Representation (1818)
46. Peter Singer - The Life You Can Save (2009)
47. Baruch Spinoza - Ethics (1677)
48. Nassim Nicholas - Taleb The Black Swan (2007)
49. Ludwig Wittgenstein - Philosophical Investigations (1953)
50. Slavoj Zizek - Living In The End Times (2010)
~ Tom Butler-Bowdon, 50 Philosophy Classics,#NFDB
1474:Now there is this song on the saxophone. And I am ashamed. A glorious little suffering has just been born, an exemplary suffering. Four notes on the saxophone. They come and go, they seem to say: You must be like us, suffer in rhythm. All right! Naturally, I’d like to suffer that way, in rhythm, without complacence, without self-pity, with an arid purity. But is it my fault if the beer at the bottom of my glass is warm, if there are brown stains on the mirror, if I am not wanted, if the sincerest of my sufferings drags and weighs, with too much flesh and the skin too wide at the same time, like a sea-elephant, with bulging eyes, damp and touching and yet so ugly? No, they certainly can’t tell me it’s compassionate—this little jewelled pain which spins around above the record and dazzles me. Not even ironic: it spins gaily, completely self-absorbed; like a scythe it has cut through the drab intimacy of the world and now it spins and all of us, Madeleine, the thick-set man, the patronne, myself, the tables, benches, the stained mirror, the glasses, all of us abandon ourselves to existence, because we were among ourselves, only among ourselves, it has taken us unawares, in the disorder, the day to day drift: I am ashamed for myself and for what exists in front of it.
It does not exist. It is even an annoyance; if I were to get up and rip this record from the table which holds it, if I were to break it in two, I wouldn’t reach it. It is beyond—always beyond something, a voice, a violin note. Through layers and layers of existence, it veils itself, thin and firm, and when you want to seize it, you find only existants, you butt against existants devoid of sense. It is behind them: I don’t even hear it, I hear sounds, vibrations in the air which unveil it. It does not exist because it has nothing superfluous: it is all the rest which in relation to it is superfluous. It is.
And I, too, wanted to be. That is all I wanted; this is the last word. At the bottom of all these attempts which seemed without bonds, I find the same desire again: to drive existence out of me, to rid the passing moments of their fat, to twist them, dry them, purify myself, harden myself, to give back at last the sharp, precise sound of a saxophone note. That could even make an apologue: there was a poor man who got in the wrong world. He existed, like other people, in a world of public parks, bistros, commercial cities and he wanted to persuade himself that he was living somewhere else, behind the canvas of paintings, with the doges of Tintoretto, with Gozzoli’s Florentines, behind the pages of books, with Fabrizio del Dongo and Julien Sorel, behind the phonograph records, with the long dry laments of jazz. And then, after making a complete fool of himself, he understood, he opened his eyes, he saw that it was a misdeal: he was in a bistro, just in front of a glass of warm beer. He stayed overwhelmed on the bench; he thought: I am a fool. And at that very moment, on the other side of existence, in this other world which you can see in the distance, but without ever approaching it, a little melody began to sing and dance: “You must be like me; you must suffer in rhythm. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
1475:Bir değişiklik olsa, doğa birden kıvranmaya başlasa, ne olur? O zaman şuracıkta olduğunu anlar, yüreklerinin çatlayacak gibi çarptığını duyarlar. Dalgakıranları, savunma duvarları, elektrik santralleri, izabe fırınları, şahmerdanları o zaman ne işlerine yarayacak? Her zaman gerçekleşebilir bu, hatta biraz sonra bile; işaretleri var zaten. Sözgelimi, gezmeye çıkmış bir aile babası, kırmızı renkli bir paçavranın, rüzgara kapılmış gibi sokağın öte yanından kendine doğru geldiğini görecek. Paçavra yanına geldiği zaman bunun, sürünüp duran, sıçrayan, toza bulanmış, kokmuş bir et parçası; kasılıp gevşedikçe kan fışkırtarak su akıntılarına yuvarlanıp giden işkenceye uğramış bir vücut parçası olduğunu görecek. Ya da bir anne, çocuğunun vücuduna bakarken, ''Ne olmuş yanağına, sivilce mi çıkıyor?'' diyecek ve etin biraz şişip yarılarak ortaya çıkan çatlağın dibinde bir üçüncü gözün, güleç bir gözün belirdiğini görecek. Ya da ırmakta yüzen birinin sazlara değdiği zaman duyduğu okşayışlara benzer okşayışlar kaplayacak gövdelerini. O zaman, elbiselerinin birer canlı haline geldiğini anlayacaklar. Bir başkası ağzını bir şeyin tırmaladığını duyacak; aynaya yaklaşıp bakınca dilinin, ayaklarını oynatıp damağını tırmalayan capcanlı, kocaman bir kırkayak haline girmiş olduğunu görecek. Tükürmek isteyecek onu, ama kırkayak gövdesinin bir parçası haline gelmiş olduğu için elleriyle çekip koparma zorunda kalacak. Yeni sözler kullanarak adlandırılması gereken yığın şey ortaya çıkacak; taş-göz, üç-köşeli-kocaman kol, ayak-parmağı-koltuk değneği, örümcek-çene. Sıcak yatağında uykuya varmış olan kimse, mavimsi bir toprak üstünde, Jouxtebovuille'in bacalarını hatırlatan, göğe doğru kırmızı ve bembeyaz yükselen, yarısı toprağa gömülü tüylü ve soğan gibi yuvarlak kocaman yumruları olan uğultulu bir erkek organları ormanında çırçıplak uyanacak. Ve kuşlar onların çevresinde uçuşacak; onları gagalayacak ve kanatacak. Yaralardan tohumlar akacak ağır ağır; küçük kabarcıklarla dolu ılık cam gibi saydam, kanla karışmış tohumlar. Ya da böyle bir şey olmayacak, göze görünür bir değişiklik çıkmayacak ortaya, ama insanlar bir sabah pencerelerini açınca, nesnelerin üzerine çökmüş olan ve bekler gibi duran bir çeşit korkunç anlamla şaşıracaklar. Yalnız bu olacak, ama kısa bir zaman sürse de insanlar yığın yığın intihara kalkışacaklar. Evet, böyle. Değişik olsun biraz, görelim; daha fazlasını istemiyorum. Birden yalnızlığa gömülmüş kimseler de görülecek. Yapayalnız, korkunç iğrençlikleri içinde yapayalnız insanlar sokaklarda koşuşacak; gözleri bir yere dikili, dertlerinden hem kaçıp hem onu içlerinde taşıyarak, ağızları açık, kanatlarını çırpan dil-böcekleriyle önümden yorgun argın geçecekler. O zaman katıla katıla güleceğim; gövdem, düğün çiçekleri ve kasımpatıları gibi açılan ne idüğü belirsiz pis kabuklarla kaplı olsa bile güleceğim. Sırtımı bir duvara dayayıp önümden geçtikleri sırada, ''Biliminiz nerede? Hümanizminiz ne oldu? Düşünen kamış onurunuzdan ne haber?'' diye haykıracağım. Korkmayacağım, hiç olmazsa şu anda korktuğumdan fazla korkmayacağım. Hangi değişiklik olursa olsun, bu varoluşun şu ya da bu biçime girmesi olacak. Bir yüzü ağır ağır yiyen bütün gözler, fazlalık olacak, ama ilk ikisinden daha fazlalık değil. Benim asıl korkum varoluştan. ~ Jean Paul Sartre, #NFDB
1476:Co się tyczy [paryskich] bulwarów, to w ogóle nie można po nich chodzić. Wszyscy zasuwają z burdelu do kliniki, a z kliniki z powrotem do burdelu. A dokoła jest tyle trypra, że ledwie można złapać dech. Kiedyś wypiłem trochę i poszedłem Polami Elizejskimi - a dokoła było tyle trypra, że ledwie powłóczyłem nogami. Zobaczyłem dwoje znajomych: on i ona, oboje jedzą kasztany, bardzo starzy oboje. Gdzieś ich już widziałem? W gazetach? Nie pamiętam, ale poznałem: Louis Aragon i Elsa Triolet. "Ciekawe - błysnęła mi myśl - skąd idą: z kliniki do burdelu czy z burdelu do kliniki?" I sam sobie przerwałem: "Wstydziłbyś się. Jesteś w Paryżu, a nie w Chrapuszowie. Zadaj im lepiej pytania o sprawy społeczne, o najbardziej palące sprawy."
Doganiam Louisa Aragona i zaczynam mówić, otwierając przed nim serce. Mówię, że jestem zdesperowany, ale nie mam najmniejszych wątpliwości, że umieram od nadmiaru węwnętrznych sprzeczności, i dużo różnych takich. A on spogląda na mnie, salutuje mi jak stary weteran, bierze swą Elsę pod rękę i idzie dalej. Ja znów ich doganiam i zwracam się tym razem już nie do Louisa, lecz do Triolet. Mówię, że umieram na brak wrażeń, że gdy przestaję rozpaczać, ogarniają mnie wątpliwości, gdy tymczasem w chwilach rozpaczy w nic nie wątpiłem... A ona tymczasem, jak stara kurwa, poklepała mnie po policzku, wzięła pod rączkę swojego Aragona i poszła dalej.
Potem, rzecz jasna, dowiedziałem się z prasy, że to wcale nie byli oni, tylko Jean-Paul Sartre i Simone de Baeuvoir, ale jaka to teraz dla mnie różnica! Poszedłem do Notre-Dame i wynająłem tam mansardę. Mansarda, facjatka, oficyna, antresola, strych - ciągle to wszystko mylę i nie widzę różnicy. Krótko mówiąc, wynająłem miejsce, w którym można leżeć, pisać i palić fajkę. Wypaliłem dwanaście fajek i odesłałem do "Revue de Paris" mój esej pod francuskim tytułem "Szyk i blask - immer elegant". Esej na temat miłości.
A wiecie przecież, jak trudno jest we Francji pisać o miłości. Dlatego że wszystko, co dotyczy miłości, zostało już we Francji dawno napisane. Tam wiedzą o miłości wszystko, a u nas nic. Spróbujcie u nas komuś ze średnim wykształceniem pokazać twardy szankier i zapytać: "Jaki to szankier, twardy czy miękki!" - na pewno strzeli: "Jasne, że miękki." A jak zobaczy miękki, to już zupełnie straci orientację. A tam - nie. Tam mogą nie wiedzieć, ile kosztuje dziurawcówka, ale jeśli już szankier jest miękki, to będzie takim dla każdego i nikt go nie nazwie twardym...
Krótko mówiąc, "Revue de Paris" zwróciło mi esej pod pretekstem, że został napisany po rosyjsku, a francuski był tylko tytuł. Wypaliłem więc na antresoli jeszcze trzynaście fajek i stworzyłem nowy esej, również poświęcony miłości. Tym razem cały tekst od początku do końca był napisany po francusku, a rosyjski był jedynie tytuł: "Skurwysyństwo jako najwyższe i ostatnie stadium kurestwa." I posłałem tekst do "Revue de Paris".
[Znów mi go zwrócili.] Styl, powiedzieli, znakomity, natomiast główna myśl - fałszywa. Być może, powiedzieli, da się to zastosować do warunków rosyjskich, ale nie francuskich. Skurwysyństwo, powiedzieli, wcale nie jest u nas stadium najwyższym i bynajmniej nie ostatnim. U was, Rosjan, powiedzieli, kurestwo, które osiągnie granice skurwysyństwa, zostanie przymusowo zlikwidowane i zastąpione przez programowy onanizm. Natomiast u nas, Francuzów, nie jest wprawdzie w przyszłości wykluczone organiczne zrastanie się pewnych elementów rosyjskiego onanizmu, potraktowanego bardziej swobodnie - z naszą ojczystą sodomią, będącą efektem transformacji skurwysyństwa za pośrednictwem kazirodztwa; jednakże owo zrastanie się nastąpi na gruncie naszego tradycyjnego kurestwa, mając charakter absolutnie permanentny. ~ Venedikt Yerofeyev,#NFDB
1477:The Age Of Reason
1. ‘Well, it’s that same frankness you fuss about so much. You’re so absurdly scared of being your own dupe, my poor boy, that you would back out of the finest adventure in the world rather than risk telling yourself a lie.’
2. “ I’m not so much interested in myself as all that’ he said simply.
‘I know’, said Marcelle. It isn’t an aim , it’s a means. It helps you to get rid of yourself; to contemplate and criticize yourself: that’s the attitude you prefer. When you look at yourself, you imagine you aren’t what you see, you imagine you are nothing. That is your ideal: you want to be nothing.’’
3. ‘In vain he repeated the once inspiring phrase: ‘I must be free: I must be self-impelled, and able to say: ‘’I am because I will: I am my own beginning.’’ Empty, pompous words, the commonplaces of the intellectual.’
4. ‘He had waited so long: his later years had been no more than a stand-to. Oppressed with countless daily cares, he had waited…But through all that, his sole care had been to hold himself in readiness. For an act. A free, considered act; that should pledge his whole life, and stand at the beginning of a new existence….He waited. And during all that time, gently, stealthily, the years had come, they had grasped him from behind….’
5. ‘ ‘It was love. This time, it was love. And Mathiue thought:’ What have I done?’ Five minutes ago this love didn’t exist; there was between them a rare and precious feeling, without a name and not expressible in gestures.’
6. ‘ The fact is, you are beyond my comprehension: you, so prompt with your indignation when you hear of an injustice, you keep this woman for years in a humiliating position, for the sole pleasure of telling yourself that you are respecting your principles. It wouldn’t be so bad if it were true, if you really did adapt your life to your ideas. But, I must tell you once more…you like that sort of life-placid, orderly, the typical life of an official.’
‘’That freedom consisted in frankly confronting situations into which one had deliberately entered, and accepting all one’s responsibilities.’
‘Well…perhaps I’m doing you an injustice. Perhaps you haven’t in fact reached the age of reason, it’s really a moral age…perhaps I’ve got there sooner than you have.’
7. ‘ I have nothing to defend. I am not proud of my life and I’m penniless. My freedom? It’s a burden to me, for years past I have been free and to no purpose. I simply long to exchange it for a good sound of certainty….Besides, I agree with you that no one can be a man who has not discovered something for which he is prepared to die.’
8. ‘‘I have led a toothless life’, he thought. ‘ A toothless life. I have never bitten into anything. I was waiting. I was reserving myself for later on-and I have just noticed that my teeth have gone. What’s to be done? Break the shell? That’s easily said. Besides, what would remain? A little viscous gum, oozing through the dust and leaving a glistering trail behind it.’
9.’’ A life’, thought Mathieu, ‘is formed from the future just like the bodies are compounded from the void’. He bent his head: he thought of his own life. The future had made way into his heart, where everything was in process and suspense. The far-off days of childhood, the day when he has said:’I will be free’, the day when he had said: ’I will be famous’, appeared to him even now with their individual future, like a small, circled individual sky above them all, and the future was himself, himself just as he was at present, weary and a little over-ripe, they had claims upon him across the passage of time past, they maintained their insistencies, and he was often visited by attacks of devastating remorse, because his casual, cynical present was the original future of those past days. ~ Jean Paul Sartre,#NFDB
2 Integral Yoga
0 1969-05-31, #Agenda Vol 10, #The Mother, #Integral Yoga
The book is The Wretched of the Earth by Franz Fanon, whose central theme is "Violence alone pays" (quoted in The Indian Express of May 30). An extract: "The practice of violence binds men together as a whole, since each individual forms a violent link in the great chain, a part of the great organism of violence which has surged upward." The book is prefaced by Jean-Paul Sartre, who says even more explicitly, "Irrepressible violence... is man recreating himself." It is "mad fury" through which "the wretched of the earth" can "become men." "To shoot down a European is to kill two birds with one stone... there remains a dead man and a free man."
On Thursday 29th May. On the 30th too, mother received no one. This is probably the course of experience that began a little before Pavitra's departure (see conversation of May 17).
05.14 - The Sanctity of the Individual, #Collected Works of Nolini Kanta Gupta - Vol 01, #Nolini Kanta Gupta, #Integral Yoga
The sanctity of the individual, the value of the human person is one of the cardinal articles of faith of the modern consciousness. Only it has very many avatars. One such has been the characteristic mark of the group of philosophers (and mystics) who are nowadays making a great noise under the name of Existentialists. The individual personality exists, they say, and its nature is freedom. In other words, it chooses, as it likes, its course of life, at every step, and Creates its destiny. This freedom, however, may lead man and will inevitably lead him, according to one section of the group, to the perception and realisation of God, an infinite in which the individual finite lives and moves and has his being; according to others, the same may lead to a very different consummation, to Nothingness, the Great Void, Nihil. All existence is bounded by something unknown and intangible which differs according to your luck or taste,one would almost say to your line of approach, put philosophically, according either to the positive pole or the negative, God or Non-existence. The second alternative seems to be an inevitable corollary of the particular conception of the individual that is entertained by some, viz.,the individual existing only in relation to individuals. Indeed the leader of the French school, Jean-Paul Sartrenot a negligible playwright and novelistseems to conceive the individual as nothing more than the image formed in other individuals with whom he comes in contact. Existence literally means standing out or outside (ex+sistet), coming out of one-self and living in other's consciousnessas one sees one's exact image in another's eye. It is not however the old-world mystic experience of finding one's self in other selves. For here we have an exclusively level or horizontal view of the human personality. The personality is not seen in depth or height, but in line with the normal phenomenal formation. It looks as though, to save personality from the impersonal dissolution to which all monistic idealism leads, the present conception seeks to hinge all personalities upon each other so that they may stand by and confirm each other. But the actual result seems to have been not less calamitous. When we form and fashion each other, we are not building with anything more substantial than sand. Personalities are thus mere eddies in the swirl of cosmic life, they rise up and die down, separate and melt into each other and have no consistency and no reality in the end. The freedom too which is ascribed to such individuals, even when they feel it so, is only a sham and a make-believe. Within Nature nothing is free, all is mechanical lawKarma is supreme. The Sankhya posits indeed many Purushas, free, lodged in the midst of Prakriti, but there the Purusha is hardly an active agent, it is only an inactive, passive, almost impotent, witness. The Existentialist, on the contrary, seeks to make of the individual an active agent; he is not merely being, imbedded or merged in the original Dasein, mere existence, but becoming, the entity that has come out, stood out in its will and consciousness, articulated itself in name and form and act. But the person that stands out as part and parcel of Prakriti, the cosmic movement, is, as we have said, only an instrument, a mode of that universal Nature. The true person that informs that apparent formulation is something else. .
To be a person, it is said, one must be apart from the crowd. A person is the "single one", one who has attained his singularity, his individual wholeness. And the life's work for each individual person is to make the crowd no longer a crowd, but an association of single ones. But how can this be done? It is not simply by separating oneself from the crowd, by dwelling upon oneself that one can develop into one's true person. The individuals, even when perfect single ones, do not exist by themselves or in and through one another. The mystic or spiritual perception posits the Spirit or God, the All-self as the background and substance of all the selves. Indeed, it is only when one finds and is identified with the Divine in oneself that one is in a position to attain one's true selfhood and find oneself in other selves. And the re-creation of a crowd into such divine individuals is a cosmic work in which the individual is at best a collaborator, not the master and dispenser. Anyway, one has to come out of the human relationship, rise above the give-and-take of human individualshowever completely individual each one may beand establish oneself in the Divine's consciousness which is the golden thread upon which is strung all the assembly of individuals. It is only in and through the Divine, the Spiritual Reality and Person, that one enters into true relation and dynamic harmony with others.
--- Overview of noun jean-paul_sartre
The noun jean-paul sartre has 1 sense (no senses from tagged texts)
1. Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre ::: (French writer and existentialist philosopher (1905-1980))
--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun jean-paul_sartre
1 sense of jean-paul sartre
Sense 1
Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre
INSTANCE OF=> dramatist, playwright
=> writer, author
=> communicator
=> person, individual, someone, somebody, mortal, soul
=> organism, being
=> living thing, animate thing
=> whole, unit
=> object, physical object
=> physical entity
=> entity
=> causal agent, cause, causal agency
=> physical entity
=> entity
INSTANCE OF=> existentialist, existentialist philosopher, existential philosopher
=> philosopher
=> scholar, scholarly person, bookman, student
=> intellectual, intellect
=> person, individual, someone, somebody, mortal, soul
=> organism, being
=> living thing, animate thing
=> whole, unit
=> object, physical object
=> physical entity
=> entity
=> causal agent, cause, causal agency
=> physical entity
=> entity
--- Hyponyms of noun jean-paul_sartre
--- Synonyms/Hypernyms (Ordered by Estimated Frequency) of noun jean-paul_sartre
1 sense of jean-paul sartre
Sense 1
Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre
INSTANCE OF=> dramatist, playwright
INSTANCE OF=> existentialist, existentialist philosopher, existential philosopher
--- Coordinate Terms (sisters) of noun jean-paul_sartre
1 sense of jean-paul sartre
Sense 1
Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre
-> dramatist, playwright
HAS INSTANCE=> Aeschylus
HAS INSTANCE=> Albee, Edward Albee, Edward Franklin Albeen
HAS INSTANCE=> Anderson, Maxwell Anderson
HAS INSTANCE=> Anouilh, Jean Anouilh
HAS INSTANCE=> Aristophanes
HAS INSTANCE=> Barrie, James Barrie, J. M. Barrie, James Matthew Barrie, Sir James Matthew Barrie
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HAS INSTANCE=> Beckett, Samuel Beckett
HAS INSTANCE=> Brecht, Bertolt Brecht
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HAS INSTANCE=> Dryden, John Dryden
HAS INSTANCE=> Eliot, T. S. Eliot, Thomas Stearns Eliot
HAS INSTANCE=> Euripides
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HAS INSTANCE=> Fugard, Athol Fugard
HAS INSTANCE=> Garcia Lorca, Frederico Garcia Lorca, Lorca
HAS INSTANCE=> Genet, Jean Genet
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HAS INSTANCE=> Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
HAS INSTANCE=> Goldoni, Carlo Goldoni
HAS INSTANCE=> Granville-Barker, Harley Granville-Barker
HAS INSTANCE=> Hart, Moss Hart
HAS INSTANCE=> Havel, Vaclav Havel
HAS INSTANCE=> Hebbel, Friedrich Hebbel, Christian Friedrich Hebbel
HAS INSTANCE=> Hellman, Lillian Hellman
HAS INSTANCE=> Hugo, Victor Hugo, Victor-Marie Hugo
HAS INSTANCE=> Ibsen, Henrik Ibsen, Henrik Johan Ibsen
HAS INSTANCE=> Inge, William Inge
HAS INSTANCE=> Ionesco, Eugene Ionesco
HAS INSTANCE=> Jonson, Ben Jonson, Benjamin Jonson
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HAS INSTANCE=> Kleist, Heinrich von Kleist, Bernd Heinrich Wilhelm von Kleist
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HAS INSTANCE=> Maeterlinck, Count Maurice Maeterlinck
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HAS INSTANCE=> Marstan, John Marstan
HAS INSTANCE=> Menander
HAS INSTANCE=> Middleton, Thomas Middleton
HAS INSTANCE=> Miller, Arthur Miller
HAS INSTANCE=> Moliere, Jean-Baptiste Poquelin
HAS INSTANCE=> Molnar, Ferenc Molnar
HAS INSTANCE=> O'Casey, Sean O'Casey
HAS INSTANCE=> Odets, Clifford Odets
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HAS INSTANCE=> Pirandello, Luigi Pirandello
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HAS INSTANCE=> Plautus, Titus Maccius Plautus
HAS INSTANCE=> Racine, Jean Racine, Jean Baptiste Racine
HAS INSTANCE=> Rattigan, Terence Rattigan, Sir Terence Mervyn Rattigan
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HAS INSTANCE=> Robinson, Lennox Robinson, Esme Stuart Lennox Robinson
HAS INSTANCE=> Rostand, Edmond Rostand
HAS INSTANCE=> Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre
HAS INSTANCE=> Scribe, Augustin Eugene Scribe
HAS INSTANCE=> Seneca, Lucius Annaeus Seneca
HAS INSTANCE=> Shakespeare, William Shakespeare, Shakspere, William Shakspere, Bard of Avon
HAS INSTANCE=> Shaw, G. B. Shaw, George Bernard Shaw
HAS INSTANCE=> Shepard, Sam Shepard
HAS INSTANCE=> Sheridan, Richard Brinsley Sheridan
HAS INSTANCE=> Sherwood, Robert Emmet Sherwood
HAS INSTANCE=> Simon, Neil Simon, Marvin Neil Simon
HAS INSTANCE=> Sophocles
HAS INSTANCE=> Stoppard, Tom Stoppard, Sir Tom Stoppard, Thomas Straussler
HAS INSTANCE=> Strindberg, August Strindberg, Johan August Strindberg
HAS INSTANCE=> Synge, J. M. Synge, John Millington Synge, Edmund John Millington Synge
HAS INSTANCE=> Terence, Publius Terentius Afer
HAS INSTANCE=> Tirso de Molina, Gabriel Tellez
HAS INSTANCE=> Ustinov, Sir Peter Ustinov, Peter Alexander Ustinov
HAS INSTANCE=> Vega, Lope de Vega, Lope Felix de Vega Carpio
HAS INSTANCE=> Webster, John Webster
HAS INSTANCE=> Wilde, Oscar Wilde, Oscar Fingal O'Flahertie Wills Wilde
HAS INSTANCE=> Wilder, Thornton Wilder, Thornton Niven Wilder
HAS INSTANCE=> Williams, Tennessee Williams, Thomas Lanier Williams
HAS INSTANCE=> Wycherley, William Wycherley
HAS INSTANCE=> Yeats, William Butler Yeats, W. B. Yeats
-> existentialist, existentialist philosopher, existential philosopher
HAS INSTANCE=> Beauvoir, Simone de Beauvoir
HAS INSTANCE=> Camus, Albert Camus
HAS INSTANCE=> Heidegger, Martin Heidegger
HAS INSTANCE=> Sartre, Jean-Paul Sartre
--- Grep of noun jean-paul_sartre
jean-paul sartre