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Jean-Paul Sartre Quotes - Page 16

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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

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
Thinking, Crowds, Revolution
Jean-Paul Sartre (2013). “Nausea”, p.18, New Directions Publishing

The real nature of the present revealed itself: it was what exists, all that was not present did not exist.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Time, Real, Existential

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
Years, Gone, Literature

I entered the Communist Party because its cause was just and I will leave it when it ceases to be just.

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

In Guinea I could read [Franz] Kafka. I re-discover in him my own discomfort.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Guinea, Discomfort, My Own

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
Lying, Men, What Matters

What never vary are the necessities of being in the world, of having to labor and to die there.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Life, World, Labor
Jean-Paul Sartre (2002). “Jean-Paul Sartre: Basic Writings”, p.39, Routledge

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
Tease, Used, Ifs
Jean Paul Sartre (1955). “No exit, and three other plays”, Vintage

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
Thinking, People, Sick

[Andre] Gide can say it to me: it is a writer's morality only addressed to a few privileged people. For that reason it no longer interests me.

Jean-Paul Sartre
People, Morality, Reason

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
Air, Space, Shining

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
Writing, Men, Two

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
Regret, Responsibility, Tears

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

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
Dream, Nausea, Morality

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
Order, Effort, Obscurity

[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
Mistake, Theory, Difficult

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
Too Late, Lines, Existentialism
"No Exit". Book by Jean-Paul Sartr, Inès, act 1, sc. 5, 1944.

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
War, Lasts, Should

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
Book, Writing, Psychology

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
Asking, Revelations, Minutes

It is too early to love. We will buy the right to do so by shedding blood.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Life, Blood, Shedding Blood
"The Devil and the Good Lord" by Jean-Paul Sartre, (Act 1), 1951.

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
Dream, Blow, World
Jean Paul Sartre (1949). “Three Plays: Tr. from the French by Lionel Abel”

I have always been an optimist, perhaps even too much.

Jean-Paul Sartre
Too Much, Optimist

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
Memories, Cutting, Men
Jean-Paul Sartre (1962). “Altona ; Men without shadows ; The flies”

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