Quotes from Jean-Paul Sartre

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.

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.

DoÄŸrular, doÄŸru haline gelirler ve önemli olan da onlar? buna ulaÅŸt?ran yoldur, buna ulaÅŸmak için kendi üzerinde ve baÅŸkalar?yla birlikte yap?lan çal??mad?r. Bu çal??ma olmadan, bir doÄŸru ancak doÄŸru bir hata olabilir.

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

Nu sunt atât de laÈ™ ca s? îmi fie team? c? fac pe cineva s? sufere atunci când trebuie s-o fac.

Bu akÅŸam, birdenbire kendimi biraz zavall? hissettim. Sonra geçti.

Omenirea e plin? doar de ea îns??i, nimeni nu-i lipseÈ™te È™i nu aÈ™teapt? pe nimeni. Va continua s? nu duc? nic?ieri È™i aceiaÈ™i oameni îÈ™i vor pune aceleaÈ™i întreb?ri È™i vor rata aceleaÈ™i vieÈ›i.

We had a horrible fear of him because we sensed he was alone.

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.

Yaln?zl???n s?n?r?nda insanlar?n yan?nda duruyorum. Bir tehlike an?nda onlara s???naca??m.

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.

Now I think of no one anymore. 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.

I am therefore responsible for myself and for everyone else, and I am fashioning a certain image of man as I choose him to be In choosing myself, I choose man.

Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer c'est les autres.

DüÅŸünüyorum da,'' diyorum gülerek. ''Ne düÅŸünüyordum biliyor muusunuz? Burada bir sürü insan?z, bedensel varl???m?z? korumak için yiyip içiyoruz, ama var olmam?? için hiçbir ÅŸey hiçbir neden yok.

existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing—not even a memory.

Ya ben kendi geçmiÅŸimi nerede saklayaca??m? GeçmiÅŸ cebe konmaz ki. Bunu yerleÅŸtirecek bir evin olmas? gerekir. Benimse sadece bedenim var. Bedeniyle yaln?z olan bir insan, an?lar? durduramaz, üzerinden a??p gider onlar. Ac? çekmeliyim. Sadece özgür olmak istedim.

It gnaws at her, I'm sure of it, but slowly, patiently: she takes the upper hand, she is able neither to console herself nor abandon herself to her suffering. She thinks about it a little bit, a very little bit, now and again she passes it on. Especially when she is with people, because they console her and also because it comforts her a little to talk about it with poise, with an air of giving advice. When she is alone in the rooms I hear her humming to keep herself from thinking.

Eres un mocoso a quien le cuesta pasar a la edad adulta, pero serás un hombre muy aceptable si alguien te facilita el paso.

Ama biz, yar?n?n henüz orada olmad???n? hep unutuyoruz.

There ought to exist for the human being, in so far as he is conscious of being, a certain mode of standing opposite his past and his future, as being both this past and this future and as not being them.

When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell something: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends.

Behind me, in the town, in the big straight streets lit by the cold light of the street lamps, a tremendous social event was dying: it was the end of Sunday.

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.