Quotes About Existence

But then, even in the most insignificant details of our daily life, none of us can be said to constitute a material whole, which is identical for everyone, and need only be turned up like a page in an account-book or the record of a will; our social personality is a creation of the thoughts of other people.

The universe is real for us all and dissimilar to each one of us.

A child who has been breathing since birth without ever noticing it does not know how essential the unheeded air that gently swells his chest is to his life. Does he happen to be suffocating in a convulsion, a bout of fever? Desperately straining his entire being, he struggles almost for his life, for his lost tranquillity, which he will regain only with the air from which he did not realize his tranquillity was inseparable.

The links between another person and ourselves exist only in our minds. Memory weakens them as it fades, and despite the illusions which we hope will deceive us and with which, whether from love, friendship, politeness, human respect or from duty, we hope to deceive others, we exist on our own. Man is a being who cannot move beyond his own boundaries, who knows others only within himself, and if he alleges the contrary, he is lying.

Sentimos en un mundo, pensamos y nombramos en otro

Self-centredness thus enabling every human being to see the universe spread out in descending tiers beneath himself who is its lord,

Then his jealousy rejoiced at the discovery, as though that jealousy had had an independent existence, fiercely egotistical, gluttonous of every thing that would feed its vitality, even at the expense of Swann himself.

to me a new book was not one of a number of similar objects, but was like an individual man, unmatched, and with no cause of existence beyond himself [...]

Rien qu'un moment du passé? Beaucoup plus peut-être; quelque chose qui, commun à la fois et au présent, est beaucoup plus essentiel qu'eux deux.

a work of art is the only means of regaining lost time.

Yes, I have been forced to whittle down the facts, and to be a liar, but it is not one universe, there are millions, almost as many as the number of human eyes and brains in existence, that awake every morning.

A book is no mere book anymore than man can be mere man. A book was like an individual man, unmatched and with no cause of existence beyond himself.

Life is like that little sweetheart. We dream it and we love it in dreaming it. We should not try to live it: otherwise, like that little boy, we will plunge into stupidity, though not at one swoop, for in life everything degenerates by imperceptible nuances. At the end of ten years we no longer recognize our dreams; we deny them, we live, like a cow, for the grass we are grazing on at the moment. And who knows if our wedding with death might not lead to our conscious immortality?

Photography acquires a certain dignity, which it does not normally have, when it is not just a reproduction of reality but can show us things that no longer exist.

It was in an ostensible vein of sarcasm that he had asked me to call him, and that he himself called me, "cher maître." But, as a matter of fact, we each derived a certain satisfaction from the mannerism, being still at the age in which one believes that one gives a thing real existence by giving it a name. Unfortunately

Comme nous ne sommes tous, nous les vivants, que des morts qui ne sont pas encore entrés en fonctions, toutes ces politesses, toutes ces salutations dans le vestibule que nous appelons déférence, gratitude, dévouement et où nous mêlons tant de mensonges, sont stériles et fatigantes.

WE know no time when we were not as now..

Thou therefore on these Herbs, and Fruits, and Flow'rs Feed first, on each Beast next, and Fish, and Fowl, No homely morsels, and whatever thing The Scyth of Time mows down, devour unspar'd, Till I in Man residing through the Race, His thoughts, his looks, words, actions all infect, And season him thy last and sweetest prey.

Numerous, and every Starr perhaps a World   Of destind habitation; but

Rose out of Chaos:

But past who can recall, or don undoe? Not God Omnipotent, nor Fate

In goodness and in power pre-eminent. Tell me how may I know him, how adore,? From whom I have that thus I move and live, And feel that I am happier than I know.

And ye that live and move, fair Creatures, tell,   Tell, if ye saw, how came I thus, how here?   Not of my self; by some great Maker then,   In goodness and in power praeeminent;   Tell me, how may I know him, how adore,   From whom I have that thus I move and live,   And feel that I am happier then I know.

Doctrin which we would know whence learnt: who saw   When this creation was? rememberst thou   Thy making, while the Maker gave thee being?   We know no time when we were not as now;   Know none before us, self-begot, self-rais'd   By our own quick'ning power, when fatal course   Had circl'd his full Orbe, the birth mature   Of this our native Heav'n, Ethereal Sons.