Quotes from Jean-Paul Sartre

At this very moment—it's frightful—if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing.

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.

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.

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.

Bivanje je polnost, ki je ?lovek ne more zapustiti.

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.

Nasmeh dreves, lovorovega zelenja, to je nekaj pomenilo, to je bila resni?na skrivnost bivanja.

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:

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

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.

içimde olup bitenler, belirgin izler b?rakmad?.

All is full, existence everywhere, dense, heavy and sweet. But beyond all this sweetness, inaccessible, near and so far, young, merciless and serene, there is this... this rigour.

For us man is characterized above all by his going beyond a situation, and by what he succeeds in making of what he has been made -- even if he never recognizes himself in his objectification.

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.

So you realized that there were always women in tears, or a red-headed man, or something else to spoil your effects? Yes, naturally.

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.

Once they have been to bed together, they will have to find something else to conceal the enormous absurdity of their existence.

ÅŸu son haftalar içinde bir deÄŸiÅŸiklik ortaya ç?kt?. ama nerede? hiçbir ÅŸeye baÄŸlan?lmayan soyut bir deÄŸiÅŸme bu. deÄŸiÅŸen ben miyim? ben deÄŸilsem ÅŸu oda, ÅŸu kent, ÅŸu doÄŸa; seçmek gerek. deÄŸiÅŸen benim san?yorum.

God, how strongly things exist today.

No street corner has any justification over another one. Custom dissolves into nothingness.

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

No. Don't look up. I know what you're hid-ing with your hands. I know you've no face left.

But existence is a deflection.

Even if she loved him with all her heart, it would still be the love of a dead woman.