Top 25 Quotes by Jean-Paul Sartre of 464 - Page 11

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

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

Fall, Night, Light

Jean-Paul Sartre (2013). “Nausea”, p.25, New Directions Publishing

There is no human nature, since there is no god to conceive it.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Existentialism, Human Nature, There Is No God

Martin Heidegger, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre (2016). “The Philosophical Library Existentialism Collection: Essays in Metaphysics, The Ethics of Ambiguity, and The Philosophy of Existentialism”, p.164, Open Road Media

I am neither virgin nor priest enough to play with the inner life.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Play, Enough, Priests

Jean-Paul Sartre (2013). “Nausea”, p.22, New Directions Publishing

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

Hero, Writing, Neurosis

It is always more valuable to report the truth.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Peace, War, Valuable

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

Dream, Reality, Two

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

Farewell, Pride, Men

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

Dog, Moving, Men

Jean-Paul Sartre (2013). “Nausea”, p.33, New Directions Publishing

Ah! yes, I know: those who see me rarely trust my word: I must look too intelligent to keep it.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Trust, Philosophical, Intelligent

"The Devil and the Good Lord". Book by Jean-Paul Sartre, act 2, sc. 3, en.wikiquote.org. 1951.

It is the same: a chosen one is a man whom God's finger crushes against the wall.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Crush, Wall, Men

"The Devil and the Good Lord". Book by Jean-Paul Sartre, Act 2, sc. 4, 1951.

A man is involved in life, leaves his impress on it, and outside of that there is nothing.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Men, Impress, Involved

Martin Heidegger, Simone de Beauvoir, Jean-Paul Sartre (2016). “The Philosophical Library Existentialism Collection: Essays in Metaphysics, The Ethics of Ambiguity, and The Philosophy of Existentialism”, p.171, Open Road Media

He is always becoming, and if it were not for the contingency of death, he would never end.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Becoming, Ends, Contingency

Jean-Paul Sartre, Lloyd Alexander (1964). “Nausea”, p.13, New Directions Publishing

This desire [to write] is rather strange all the same and is not without a certain "cracked" quality.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Writing, Desire, Quality

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

Reality, Men, Color

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

Vegetables, Soul, Carrots

"Dirty Hands". Book by Jean-Paul Sartre, Act 5, sc. 3, 1948.

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

Monday, Hero, Adventure

Jean-Paul Sartre, Lloyd Alexander (1964). “Nausea”, p.54, New Directions Publishing

I am not virtuous. Our sons will be if we shed enough blood to give them the right to be.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Son, Blood, Giving

"The Devil and the Good Lord". Play by Jean-Paul Sartre, Act 3, sc. 5, 1951.

Originally, poetry creates the myth, while the prose-writer draws its portrait.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Writing, Portraits, Myth

"What Is Literature?: And Other Essays".

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

Men, Giving, Desire

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

Men, Luxury, Evil

I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Want, Said, Dies

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

Way, Existentialism, Wonder

"No Exit". Play by Jean-Paul Sartre, Act 1, sc. 5, 1944.

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

Book, Lasts, Shelves

Jean-Paul Sartre (2013). “Nausea”, p.38, New Directions Publishing

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

Cutting, Silence, Nails

"No Exit". Play by Jean-Paul Sartre, 1944.