Death is a continuation of my life without me… ― Jean-Paul Sartre
It is quite true what philosophy says; that life must be understood backwards. But then one forgets the other principle: that it must be lived forwards. Which principle, the more one thinks it through, ends exactly with the thought that temporal life can never properly be understood precisely because I can at no instant find… Continue reading Søren Kierkegaard
The self is a relation which relates itself to its own self, or it is that in the relation that the relation relates itself to its own self; the self is not the relation but that the relation relates itself to its own self. ― Søren Kierkegaard, The Sickness Unto Death. (Princeton University Press; unknown… Continue reading Søren Kierkegaard
I see the insipid flesh blossoming and palpitating with abandon. ― Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea. (New Directions Publishing Corporation January 1, 1975) Originally published 1938.
What is a poet? An unhappy man who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music…. And people flock around the poet and say: ‘Sing again soon’ – that is, ‘May new sufferings torment your soul but… Continue reading Søren Kierkegaard
You know, it’s quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don’t do it. — Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea. (New Directions Publishing Corporation January 1, 1975) Originally published… Continue reading Jean-Paul Sartre
I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves. — Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea. (New Directions Publishing Corporation January 1, 1975) Originally published 1938.