Quotes About Existentialism

Ceea ce caut în fond nu este mântuirea, ci mângâierea, mai mult: o vorb?(una singur?!) de mângâiere; ÅŸi tocmai asta nu g?sesc niciunde. ... Iat? starea celui n?scut sub zodia tristeÅ£ii f?r? leac.

C?ci dac? diferenÈ›a dintre om È™i animal rezid? în faptul c? animalul nu poate fi decât animal, pe când omul poate fi neom, adic? altceva decât el însuÈ™i - atunci eu sunt un neom.

Reprosurile,furiile, amaraciuniile mele provin, toate, dintr-o nemultumire de mine insumi pe care nimeni nu va putea vreodata s-o simta cu aceeasi intensitate.Sila de mine insumi, sila de lume.

Aforismul e cultivat doar de cei care au cunoscut frica "în mijlocul" cuvintelor, frica de a se n?rui împreun? cu "toate cuvintele".

Am împins pân? la viciu vocaÅ£ia tristeÅ£ii.

Ho trascinato tutti i miei si nel fango e ormai non aderisco al mondo più di un anello al dito di uno scheletro.

Faptul c? exist eu dovede?te c? lumea nu are nici un sens.

Dintre filosofi nu sunt interesanÈ›i decât cei care nemaiavând ce gândi s-au apucat s? caute fericirea.

Elän ainoastaan siksi, että minun vallassani on kuolla silloin kun se minusta hyvältä tuntuu: ilman itsemurha- ajatusta olisin tappanut itseni aikoja sitten.

No se puede estar menos hecho para la tierra que yo. Pertenezco a otro mundo, que es tanto como decir que soy de un submundo.

The same feeling of not belonging, of futility, wherever I go: I pretend interest in what matters nothing to me, I bestir myself mechanically or out of charity, without ever being caught up, without ever being somewhere. What attracts me is elsewhere, and I don't know what that elsewhere is.

De sute de ani, omenirea prive?te cerul printr-o gaur? de tun.

Kill yourself because you are what you are, yes, but not because all humanity would spit in your face!

Existir es un plagio

What could they expect from this world, those who sense, beyond the normal limits, life, loneliness, despair, and death?

El paraíso no era un lugar soportable, de lo contrario, el primero hombre se habría adaptado a él; este mundo tampoco lo es, ya que en él se añora el paraíso o se da otro por seguro. ¿Qué hacer? ¿A dónde ir? No hagamos nada, no vayamos a ningún lado, así sin más.

After having struggled madly to solve all problems, after having suffered on the heights of despair, in the supreme hour of revelation, you will find that the only answer, the only reality, is silence.

As far back as I can remember, I've utterly destroyed within myself the pride of being human. And I saunter to the periphery of the Race like a timorous monster, lacking the energy to claim kinship with some other band of apes.

A little more fervor in my nihilism and I might — gainsaying everything — shake off my doubts and triumph over them. But I have only the taste of negation, not its grace.

Être, c'est être coincé.

What I discern in each moment is its exhaustion, its death-rattle, and not the transition to the next moment. I generate dead time, wallowing in the asphyxia of becoming.

Être moderne, c'est bricoler dans l'incurable.

And this nothing, this everything, cannot give life a meaning, but it nonetheless makes life persevere in what it is: a state of non-suicide.

You with your veins full of night — you have no more place among men than an epitaph in the middle of a circus.