Quotes About Meaning

Bir an hayat?m? yarg?lamaya kalkt?m. Kendi kendime 'güzel bir hayatt?' demek isterdim. Ama bir yarg?ya varam?yordu insan, bu bir taslakt?. Zaman?m? ölümsüzlük için uÄŸraÅŸmakla geçirmiÅŸim, bir ÅŸey anlamam???m. ...

Optimisme wil beslist niet zeggen dat wordt verkondigd hoe gelukkig de mens is of zou kunnen zijn, maar eenvoudig dat zijn lijden niet voor niets is. Als de wereld slechts was geschapen om in haar ondergang een laatste lichtflits te zijn voor een paar blinde ogen, zelfs dan zou die ondergang nog zin hebben gehad.

convingerea c? nu exist? o "elit?" a destinului omenesc È™i c? omul "cu mâinile È™i cu buzunarele goale" este chemat s?-È™i f?ureasc? într-o lupt? permanent? cu forÈ›ele adverse È™i, uneori, cu el însuÈ™i, viaÈ›a, justificarea, meseria, bucuria È™i propria lui conÈ™tiin??.

Tarih, var olmuÅŸ olan bir ÅŸeyden söz eder; oysa bir var olan baÅŸka bir var olan?n varoluÅŸunu hakl? ç?karamaz.

I was only a means of making him live, he was my reason for living, he had delivered me from myself. What shall I do now?

Totul mi-a p?rut simplu: a scrie înseamn? s? sporeÈ™ti cu o perl? colierul Muzelor, s? laÈ™i posterit??ii amintirea unei vieÈ›i exemplare, s? aperi poporul contra lui însuÈ™i È™i contra duÈ™manilor lui, s? atragi oamenilor printr-o Slujb? solemn? binecuvântarea cerului. Nu-mi veni ideea c? se poate scrie pentru a fi citit.

Écrire, c'est faire appel au lecteur pour qu'il fasse passer à l'existence objective le dévoilement que j'ai entrepris par le moyen du langage.

Tik?jimas, nors ir labai gilus, niekad nesti pilnutinis. J? reikia be paliovos kurstyti ar bent jau stengtis negriauti.

In my case, I chose writing in place of death, and because I lacked faith.

I dreamed vaguely of killing myself to wipe out at least one of these superfluous lives.

La vida tiene un sentido si uno quiere dárselo.

Pakao, to su drugi.

What an odd occupation: it doesn't look like a game or a rite, or a habit. I think they do it to pass the time, nothing more. But time is too large, it can't be filled up. Everything you plunge into it is stretched and disintegrates.

I couldn't understand why I was in Indo-China. What was I doing there? Why was I talking to these people? Why was I dressed so oddly? My passion was dead. For years it had rolled over and submerged me; now I felt empty.

DoÄŸrular, doÄŸru haline gelirler ve önemli olan da onlar? buna ulaÅŸt?ran yoldur, buna ulaÅŸmak için kendi üzerinde ve baÅŸkalar?yla birlikte yap?lan çal??mad?r. Bu çal??ma olmadan, bir doÄŸru ancak doÄŸru bir hata olabilir.

Omenirea e plin? doar de ea îns??i, nimeni nu-i lipseÈ™te È™i nu aÈ™teapt? pe nimeni. Va continua s? nu duc? nic?ieri È™i aceiaÈ™i oameni îÈ™i vor pune aceleaÈ™i întreb?ri È™i vor rata aceleaÈ™i vieÈ›i.

DüÅŸünüyorum da,'' diyorum gülerek. ''Ne düÅŸünüyordum biliyor muusunuz? Burada bir sürü insan?z, bedensel varl???m?z? korumak için yiyip içiyoruz, ama var olmam?? için hiçbir ÅŸey hiçbir neden yok.

When you live alone you no longer know what it is to tell something: the plausible disappears at the same time as the friends.

Prima di prendere questa decisione mi sentivo in una solitudine così terribile che pensavo al suicidio. Ciò che mi ha trattenuto è stata l'idea che nessuno, assolutamente nessuno si sarebbe commosso alla mia morte, che in morte sarei stato ancora più solo che in vita.

Existence everywhere, to infinity, superfluous, always and everywhere; existence - which is never limited by anything but existence...existence is a repletion which man can never abandon.

And without formulating anything clearly, I understood that I had found the key to Existence, the key to my Nauseas, to my own life. In fact, all that I could grasp beyond that returns to this fundamental absurdity. Absurdity: another word; I struggle against words; down there I touched the thing. But I wanted to fix the absolute character of this absurdity here. A movement, an event in the tiny coloured world of men is only relatively absurd: by relation to the accompanying circumstances.

Existence precedes essence.

Four lines on a white paper, a splash of blood, together that makes a beautiful memory.

the world of explanations and reasons is not that of existence.