Quotes About Questioning

My existence was beginning to cause me serious concern. Was I a mere figment of the imagination?

Y se acerca el día en el que se dirá, cerrando el último volumen del último estante del extremo izquierdo: "¿y ahora?

Ä°nsan kendi kendine sormal?, diye düÅŸündü Mösyö Darbédat, sorumluluk nerede baÅŸlar ya da daha çok nerede biter?

I took the red dress down and put it against myself. 'Does it make me look intemperate and unchaste?' I said.

Why did you make me want to live? Why did you do that to me?

Last night and today - it makes a pretty good sentence. ....Qu'est-ce qu'elle fout ici, la vieille? What the devil (translating it politely) is she doing here, that old woman? What is she doing here, the stranger, the alien, the old one?....I quite agree too, quite. I have seen that in people's eyes all my life. I am asking myself all the time what the devil I am doing here. All the time.

Why are you sad?

So much violence. If God existed, I'd have strangled him on the spot. Without batting an eyelid. And with all the fury of the damned.

What are you that makes me feel thus? Who are you for whom time has no meaning?

What is 'no'? Either you have asked the wrong question or you have asked the wrong person. Find a way to get the 'yes'.

The curious are always in some danger.

What could he know at two months old, head like a question mark?

Truth is a questioning place.

Could so many straightforward ordinary lives suddenly become men to kill and women to rape?

Why be happy when you could be normal ?

My message will be very clear; it is that I think we have to continue to read novels. Because I think that the novel is a very good means to question the current world without having an answer that is too schematic, too automatic. The novelist, he's not a philosopher, not a technician of spoken language. He's someone who writes, above all, and through the novel asks questions.

What are those?

Mom could say that in hindsight, but it seemed to me that when you were in the middle of something, it was awful hard to figure out what part of it was God's will and what wasn't.

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?

Anyhow, isn't it better to think we've got here by mistake?

Can you justify your existence then?

Roquentin wonders if he could do the same as the man who wrote the tune. Not in music, but in the realm of art. Not a history book, because that is about what has existed, and existence is pointless, is not necessary.

Before beginning this treatise, he wanted the advice of The Baboon, his philosophy prof. "Excuse me, sir," he said at the end of a class, "could anyone claim that we don't exist?" The Baboon said no. "Goghito," he said, "ergo zum. You exist because you doubt your existence.

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 the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel.