Everything is gratuitous, this garden, this city and myself. When you suddenly realize it, it makes you feel sick and everything begins to drift…that’s nausea.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea
Now i did think, The smoke will drive the bugs away. And, to some degree,it did. I'd be lying, though, if I claimed I became a smoker to ward off insects.I became a smoker because 1. I was on an Adirondack swing by myself, and 2. I had cigarettes, and 3.I figured that if everyone else could smoke a cigarette without coughing, I could damn well, too.In short, I didn't have a very good reason. So yeah, let's just say that 4.it was the bugs. I made it through three drags before I felt nauseuos and dizzy and only semipleasantly buzzed. I got up to leave As I stood, a voice behind me.
John GreenMots clés nausea cigarettes smoke smoker
People. You must love people. Men are admirable. I want
to vomit—and suddenly, there it is: the Nausea
General ideas are more flattering. And then professionals and even amateurs always end up by being right
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea
Pour que l'événement le plus banal devienne une aventure, il faut et il suffit qu'on se mette à le raconter.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea sartre la-nausée
Perhaps it is impossible to understand one's own face ... People who live in society have learned how to see themselves in mirrors as they appear to their friends. I have no friends. Is that why my flesh is so naked? You might say -- yes you might say, nature without humanity.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea face mirror sartre jean-paul
It is the reflection of my face. Often in these lost days I study it: I can understand nothing of this face. The faces of others have some sense, some direction. Not mine. I cannot even decide whether it is handsome or ugly. I think it is ugly because I have been told so. But it doesn't strike me. At heart, I am even shocked that anyone can attribute qualities of this kind to it, as if you called a clod of earth or a block of stone beautiful or ugly.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés reflection ugly nausea beautiful sartre jean-paul
I lean all my weight on the porcelain ledge, I draw my face closer until it touches the mirror. The eyes, nose, and mouth disappear. Nothing is left. Brown wrinkles show on each side of the feverish swelled lips, crevices, mole holes. A silky, white down covers the great slopes of the cheeks, two hairs protrude from the nostrils: it is a geological embossed map. And, in spite of everything, this lunar world is familiar to me. I cannot say I recognize the details. But the whole thing gives me an impression of something seen before which stupefies me: I slip quietly off to sleep.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea face map sartre jean-paul
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.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés nausea coldness sartre jean-paul
You exaggerate everything. You continually force the truth because you're always looking for something.
Jean-Paul SartreMots clés truth nausea jean-paul-sartre
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