emotion is first of all and in principle an accident
Jean-Paul SartreStichwörter: emotion
You know, it's quite a job starting to love somebody. You have to have energy, generosity, blindness. There is even a moment, in the very beginning, when you have to jump across a precipice: if you think about it you don't do it.
Jean-Paul SartreStichwörter: love beginnings
I am never any one of my attitudes, any one of my actions
Jean-Paul Sartreالقيم الأخلاقية غامضة غير محددة، وهى تمتد إلى ما لا نهاية.
Jean-Paul Sartreلا يمكن أن أدلل على حقيقة عاطفتى وكلامى إلا إذا مارست ذلك فعلاً.
Jean-Paul Sartreأستطيع أن أقيس قوة عاطفتى لو أتيت من الأعمال ما يؤكدها ويصادق عليها.
Jean-Paul SartreJ'ai commencé ma vie comme je la finirai sans doute : au milieu des livres. Dans le bureau de mon grand-père, il y en avait partout ; défense était de les faire épousseter sauf une fois l'an, avant la rentrée d'octobre. Je ne savais pas encore lire que, déjà, je les révérais, ces pierres levées : droites ou penchées, serrées comme des briques sur les rayons de la bibliothèque ou noblement espacées en allées de menhirs, je sentais que la prospérité de notre famille en dépendait...
Jean-Paul SartreAt 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.
Jean-Paul SartreStichwörter: murder life-lessons
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; odveč sem
Jean-Paul SartreSomething is beginning in order to end: adventure does not let itself be drawn out; it only makes sense when dead. I am drawn, irrevocably, towards this death which is perhaps mine as well. Each instant appears only as part of a sequence. I cling to each instant with all my heart: I know that it is unique, irreplaceable -- and yet I would not raise a finger to stop it from being annihilated. This last moment I am spending -- in Berlin, in London -- in the arms of a woman casually met two days ago -- moment I love passionately, woman I may adore -- all is going to end, I know it. Soon I shall leave for another country. I shall never rediscover either this woman or this night. I grasp at each second, trying to suck it dry: nothing happens which I do not seize, which I do not fix forever in myself, nothing, neither the fugitive tenderness of those lovely eyes, nor the noises of the street, nor the false dawn of early morning: and even so the minute passes and I do not hold it back, I like to see it pass.
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