Quotes About Alienation

Writers are often exiles, outsiders, runaways and castaways.

Les villes sont le gouffre de l'espèce humaine.

Un acto de esta naturaleza es ilegítimo y nulo por el sólo motivo de que el que lo hace no está en su cabal sentido. Decir lo mismo de todo un pueblo, es suponer un pueblo de locos y la locura no constituye derecho. Aun cuando el hombre pudiese enajenarse a sí mismo, no puede enajenar a sus hijos.

People think they come together in the spectacle, and it is here that they are isolated.

He had become a man without a country. The land of his birth was at war with America; yet after thirty-five years here he was still prevented by law from becoming an American citizen. He was suddenly a man with no rights who looked exactly like the enemy.

So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the burning marl. Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people!

L'enfer, c'est les autres.

I clung to nothing, in a way I was calm. But it was a horrible calm—because of my body; my body, I saw with its eyes, I heard with its ears, but it was no longer me; it sweated and trembled by itself and I didn't recognize it any more.

The Nausea is not inside me: I feel it out there in the wall, in the suspenders, everywhere around me. It makes itself one with the café, I am the one who is within it.

People who live in society have learned to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. Is that why my flesh is naked? You might say - yes you might say, nature without humanity… Things are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea.

J'ai envie de partir, de m'en aller quelque part où je serais vraiment à ma place, où je m'emboîterais... Mais ma place n'est nulle part; je suis de trop.

So that is what hell is. I would never have believed it. You remember: the fire and brimstone, the torture. Ah! the farce. There is no need for torture: hell is other people.

The Nausea has stayed down there, in the yellow light. I am happy: this cold is so pure, this night so pure: am I myself not a wave of icy air? With neither blood, nor lymph, nor flesh. Flowing down this long canal towards the pallor down there. To be nothing but coldness.

At an age when most children are playing hopscotch or with their dolls,you, poor child, who had no friends or toys, you toyed with dreams of murder, because that is a game to play alone.

Thing are bad! Things are very bad: I have it, the filth, the Nausea.

How far away from them I feel, up on this hill. It seems to me that I belong to another species.

There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is--other people!

We were a heap of living creatures, irritated, embarrassed at ourselves, we hadn't the slightest reason to be there, none of us, each one, confused, vaguely alarmed, felt in the way in relation to others. In the way: it was the only relationship I could establish between these, tress, these gates, these stones. . . .

L'enfer c'est les autres. aka, Hell is others. .

el infierno son los otros.

S pogledom objamem prostor in prevzame me strašen stud. Kaj delam tu? Zakaj sem se spustil v to prerekanje o humanizmu? Zakaj so ti ljudje tu? Zakaj jedo? Res je, ne vedo, da bivajo. Želim si oditi, želim iti nekam, kjer bi bil zares na svojem mestu, kjer bi se lahko nekam uvrstil. Mojega mesta pa ni nikjer; odve? sem

I was neither a grandfather, nor a father, nor even a husband. I didn't vote, I scarcely paid any taxes; I couldn't lay claim to the rights of a tax-payer, nor to those of an elector, nor even to the humble right to honour which twenty years of obedience confer on an employee. My existence was beginning to cause me serious concern. Was I a mere figment of the imagination?

Usted podrá juzgarlo, señor. Antes de tomar esa decisión me sentía tan espantosamente solo que pensé en el suicidio. Lo que me contuvo fue la idea de que nadie, absolutamente nadie se conmovería con mi muerte, que estaría aún más solo en la muerte que en la vida.

I want to leave, go to some place where I will be really in my own niche, where I will fit in. . . . But my place is nowhere; I am unwanted, de trop. The