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 insta...
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.
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...
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.
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
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.
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.
Faire souffrir c'est posséder et créer tout autant que détruire.
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 ther...
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 ı...
3 o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do.
Three o'clock is always too late or too early for anything you want to do.
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.
I tell you in truth: all men are Prophets or else God does not exist.
القيم الأخلاقية غامضة غير محددة، وهى تمتد إلى ما لا نهاية.
To believe is to know that one believes, and to know that one believes is no longer to believe.
Thus pleasure itself, also becoming a right, lost its aggressive futility.
Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being - like a worm.
My memories are like coins in the devil's purse: when you open it you find only dead leaves.
Je n'ai pas rêvé cet héroïsme. Je l'ai choisi. On est ce qu'on veut.