Quotes About Nausea

Travel tips: How to avoid carsickness, seasickness and airsickness... Be careful what you eat. And stay home.

The mind of man, which he did not ask to be given, demands a reason and a meaning--this is its self-defining cause--and yet it finds itself int he midst of a radically meaningless existence. The result: impasse. And nausea.

Nausea is a normal but unpleasant effect of pregnancy and a really good sign that it is going well. Women who experience nausea in early pregnancy are less likely to miscarry.

I hate flying. My stomach churns at the mere thought of it.

The first 6 hours of being in orbit were a little difficult on my stomach. I think things just didn't know where to go!

From the face Yberio made, you'd have thought he was having trouble swallowing a crap-covered turdball rolled in shit sprinkles.

There's the neurotic mother who's so demanding that the sound of her voice over the phone can cause instant nausea in her daughters.

How do you feel?" He rubbed his stomach. "Like I've been eating Styrofoam.

I still hear her. But perhaps I had been released. Maybe the fear and nausea was no longer a sea to drown in, but only a pool of water reflecting the past alongside the now. Was I free?

still hear her. But perhaps I had been released. Maybe the fear and nausea was no longer a sea to drown in, but only a pool of water reflecting the past alongside the now. Was I free?

Nothing I have witnessed, from lava to crustacean, assailed me liked the caked debris haunting that small plastic soap hammock in the smaller of the bathrooms. Nausea is not a sufficient word.

He said that hate makes the world go round People are afraid of what they really want They make enemies of all the things that they would like to be They condition themselves to not embrace what they are Love is a clinging nausea I tried to disagree with him It was no use I never saw a more honest look in anyone's eyes.

It made Janet want to puke just watching her. And she wasn't even pregnant.

La poésie ressemble à la mort. Je connais son Å"il bleu. Il donne la nausée. Cette nausée d'architecte toujours taquinant le vide, voilà le propre du poète. Le poète est, comme nous, invisible aux vivants.

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.

Nada ha cambiado y, sin embargo, todo existe de otra manera. No puedo describirlo; es como la Náusea y, sin embargo, es precisamente lo contrario: al fin me sucede otra aventura, y cuando me interrogo veo que me sucedo que yo soy yo y que estoy aquí; soy yo quien hiende la noche; me siento feliz como un héroe de novela.

Everything is gratuitous, this garden, this city and myself. When you suddenly realize it, it makes you feel sick and everything begins to drift…that's nausea.

I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.

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.

People. You must love people. Men are admirable. I want to vomit—and suddenly, there it is: the Nausea

The Nausea has not left me and I don't believe it will leave me so soon; but I no longer have to bear it, it is no longer an illness or a passing fit: it is I.

People who live in society have learned to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. Is that why my flesh is naked? You might say - yes you might say, nature without humanity… Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea.

The Nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. I am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am I myself not a wave of icy air? With neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. Flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. To be nothing but coldness.

I have no taste for work any longer, I can do nothing more except wait for night. 530: Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea.