Jean-Paul Sartre Quotes
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Quand les riches se font la guerre, ce sont les pauvres qui meurent.
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The consciousness of being betrayed is to the collective consciousness of a sacred group what a certain form of schizophrenia is to the individual…it is a form of madness.
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the martyr’s reflex
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Generosity is nothing else than a craze to possess. All which I abandon, all which I give, I enjoy in a higher manner through the fact that I give it away.... To give is to enjoy possessively the object which one gives.
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For Genet, Beauty will be the offensive weapon that will enable him to beat the just on their own ground: that of value.
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esse est percipi, and he recognizes himself as being only insofar as he is perceived.
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We were too light, Electra. Now our feet press down in the earth like the wheels of a cart in its groove. Come with me, and we will walk heavily, bending under the weight of our heavy load.
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A man who is free is like a mangy sheep in a herd. He will contaminate my entire kingdom and ruin my work.
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It is for the sake of order that I seduced Clytemnestra, for the sake of order that I killed my king. I wanted for order to rule and that it rule through me. I have lived without desire, without love, without hope: I made order. Oh! terrible and divine passion!
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Yes, I am so free. And what a superb absence is my soul.
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I can be twenty women, one hundred, if that’s what you want, all women. Ride with me behind you, I weigh nothing, your horse will not feel me. I want to be your whorehouse!
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It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish.
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Your crystal? That’s silly. Whom do you think you are fooling? Come on, everyone knows that I threw the baby out of the window. The crystal is shattered on earth, and I do not care. I am no longer anything but a skin, and my skin does not belong to you.
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As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished.
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One is still what one is going to cease to be and already what one is going to become. One lives one’s death, one dies one’s life.
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How can I, who was not able to retain my own past, hope to save that of another?
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The past is the luxury of proprietors.
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Alors, c’est ça l’enfer. Je n'aurais jamais cru... vous vous rappelez: le soufre, le bûcher, le gril... ah! Quelle plaisanterie. Pas besoin de gril, l'enfer, c'est les autres.
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In any case, if you ever leave me with a handsome man, do not tell me that you trust me because, let me warn you: that is not what will prevent me from deceiving you, if I want to. On the contrary.
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…the prisoner’s dreams is the guard’s spirituality
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I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.
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The For-itself, in fact, is nothing but the pure nihilation of the In-itself; it is like a hole of being at the heart of Being.
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Every age has its own poetry; in every age the circumstances of history choose a nation, a race, a class to take up the torch by creating situations that can be expressed or transcended only through poetry.
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They made me take cod liver oil: that is the height of luxury: a medicine to make you hungry while the others, in the street, would have sold themselves for a beefsteak. I saw them passing my window with their signs: 'Give me bread'.