Quotes About Existentialism

What the hell is tragedy? I am.

If Mrs. Guinea had given me a ticket to Europe, or a round-the-world cruise, it wouldn't have made one scrap of difference to me, because wherever I sat—on the deck of a ship or at a street cafe in Paris or Bangkok—I would be sitting under the same glass bell jar, stewing in my own sour air.

Then he would lean back in his chair and match the tips of his fingers together in a little steeple and tell me why I couldn't sleep and why I couldn't read and why I couldn't eat and why everything everyone did seem so silly, because they only died in the end.

He would lean back in his chair and match the tips of his fingers together in a little steeple and tell me why I couldn't sleep and why I couldn't read and why I couldn't eat and why everything people did seemed so silly because they only died in the end.

Cuándo llegará el momento en que el Tiempo se quiebre, Y la eternidad lo engulla, y yo me hunda del todo?

I beamed benevolently at them over my third atheistic cup of coffee and ate my existentialist egg;

I should have been a pair of ragged claws/ Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

There was a door And I could not open it. I could not touch the handle. Why could I not walk out of my prison? What is hell? Hell is oneself, Hell is alone, the other figures in it Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from And nothing to Escape to. One is always alone.

You must go through the way in which you are not. And what you do not know is the only thing you know And what you own is what you do not own And where you are is where you are not.

Anything might have been anything else and had as much meaning to it.

I'm starting to boil inside. I know I seem dreamy, but inside-well, I'm boiling! Whenever I pick up a shoe, I shudder a little thinking how short life is and what I am doing!

I don't believe in God, but I miss him.

reality was bleak and often unbearable, their puny lives a meaningless trudge toward the blank vault of death.

Sólo viviendo absurdamente se podría romper alguna vez este absurdo infinito

no toda recaída va de arriba abajo, porque arriba y abajo no quieren decir gran cosa cuando ya no se sabe donde se está.

En el pan es de día -murmura Johnny, tapándose la cara-. Y yo me atrevo a tocarlo, a cortarlo en dos, a metérmelo en la boca. No pasa nada, ya se: eso es lo terrible. Te das cuenta de que es terrible que no pase nada? Cortas el pan, le clavas el cuchillo, y todo sigue como antes. Yo no comprendo, Bruno.

En cambio te quedás (...) dándole vueltas a los falsos problemas, esperando no se qué. Si todo esto es absurdo hay que hacer algo para cambiarlo.

Sólo viviendo absurdamente se podría romper alguna vez este absurdo infinito», se repitió Oliveira.

E]r gibt uns das Gefühl, weniger einsam zu sein in dieser Sackgasse im Dienste der Großen-Eitelkeit-Idealismus-Realismus-Spiritualismus-Materialismus des Abendlandes, G.m.b.H.

Oh, life, life!" Bastidas complained, sipping his drink. "What is life? A little flame at the tip of a candle, exposed to a strong wind.

I have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, I have measured out my life with coffee spoons.' That's T.S. Eliot, in case you were wondering. An oldie but a goodie. When it came to existential exhaustion, the man was one smart cookie.

Losers with no imagination say that if you start a new school, there has to be a first day. How come they haven't figure out how to be that? Just think existentially. All you do is take what is supposed to be the first day and bury someplace in the next month. By the time you get around to it a month later, who cares?

Existence is in a way so banal, you may as well try and make a kind of grandeur of it. Francis Bacon in conversation in Daniel Farson

I can't even enjoy a blade of grass unless I know there's a subway handy, or a record store or some other sign that people do not totally regret life. It is more important to affirm the least sincere; the clouds get enough attention as it is and even they continue to pass.