Quotes About Existential

I felt too miserable to be unhappy.

Produce poco placer o ninguno matar a un hombre muerto.

the truth was that I had become a secret agent because I could not bear for another minute the pointlessness of life in the real world.

My computer terminal whistles at me: YOU HAVE MAIL. No shit, Sherlock, I always have mail. It's an existential thing: if I don't have mail it would mean that something is very wrong with the world

It seems I have not been truly myself for a long time," he says, barely whispering, a dry, papery sound like files shuffling in a dead document archive.

I am the proud owner of a gaping hole in my soul.

start. It occurs to me that both in my dreams and in my waking life there exists the same question: What now? Something happens or nothing happens, and either way, I have to decide what to do next. There is no end to it. Well, no, there is one end to it, and that revelation leads me to this conclusion: "What now?" is the definition of life.

I just had one of those 'what the hell are we doing' moments.

I'm half alive but I feel mostly dead.

I really believe that 'Saw' makes us stop and think and question our motives and what we're doing here on Earth.

Put your other goddamned sock on, she said. Instead, he took the first sock off. They stared at each other. It was so spectacularly absurd. She could feel the corner of her mouth twitching; she was close to laughing. Rory had used to do the same sort of thing; she'd spent a decade of her life being mollified by simple existential charm.

Say I hit your number, called you up, you'd wonder what the fuck, every one of youse, and your mouth'd go dry. Maybe you're just some stranger I pocket-dialled. Or one of them shitheads from school I could look for. Any of youse heard my voice now you'd think it was weather. Or a bird screaming. You'd be sweating sand. Like I'm the end of the world.

Because they were alone. In fact everyone was alone all the time, but when you got sick you knew it, and that was a lot of what suffering was-knowing.

She was the third beer. Not the first one, which the throat receives with almost tearful gratitude; nor the second, that confirms and extends the pleasure of the first. But the third, the one you drink because it's there, because it can't hurt, and because what difference does it make?

For all I know, maybe everyone is screaming as they go through life, silently.

Was that what it meant to be alive - moving from a brightly lit corridor into a darkened room at every step? Sometimes it felt that way.

The philosophy of religion has always been death-oriented instead of being life-oriented.

Am I living in a way which is deeply satisfying to me, and which truly expresses me?

I believe that even our most abstract and philosophical views spring from an intensely personal base.

Below the level of the problem situation about which the individual is complaining—behind the trouble with studies, or wife, or employer, or with his own uncontrollable or bizarre behavior, or with his frightening feelings, lies one central search. It seems to me that at bottom each person is asking, "Who am I, really? How can I get in touch with this real self, underlying all my surface behavior? How can I become myself?

All that can justify killing is 'an existential threat to one's own way of life. . . . To demand seriously of human beings that they kill others and be prepared to die themselves so that trade and industry may flourish for the survivors or that the purchasing power of grandchildren may grow is sinister and crazy.

This is the disconcerting conclusion that emerges from Boltzmann's work: the difference between the past and the future refers only to our own blurred vision of the world. It's a conclusion that leaves us flabbergasted: Is it really possible that a perception so vivid, basic, existential—my perception of the passage of time—depends on the fact that I cannot apprehend the world in all of its minute detail?

Existential psychology has shown the depth of the human need to matter, make a difference, and feel a significant purpose in this world. We all need to feel that we do something that matters within the frame of reference that defines our experiential world. The question is, what is this frame of reference?

was a planless life, hopeless, and without direction. I was merely living from day to day: yesterday seemed long ago and tomorrow was too far away.