Best 642 quotes in «existentialism quotes» category

The world itself, whose single meaning I do not understand, is but a vast irrational. If one could only say just once: “This is clear,” all would be saved. But these men vie with one another in proclaiming that nothing is clear, all is chaos, that all man has is his lucidity and his definite knowledge of the walls surrounding him. All these experiences agree and confirm one another.

The worst thing about pills was that they worked. Without them, you might just adapt; medical optimism suspended you in a maintenance reality. He'd never known how sick he was until he'd gotten health insurance. The pill that really wanted inventing was the bitter one that cured you of optimism and made time go faster.

The you must be there for the I to find itself. Trust in you gives me trust in myself. In the encounter between the you and the I, faith is born. I am so truly I because I have faith in you. Only the I that comes about through faith can have faith.

They retained only the faintest recollection of what they had lost and had no desire to believe that they had once been innocent and happy. They derided the mere possibility of this former felicity of theirs and termed it a day-dream. They could not even picture it to themselves in images and forms, but strange and wondrous to relate, having lost any credence in their former happiness, calling it a fairy tale, they so longed to be innocent and happy once more, all over again that, childlike, they fell down before this, their heart's desire, deified it, built temples, and began to worship their own idea, their own 'desire', and tearfully bowed before it in adoration, while at the same time utterly discounting its feasibility or the possibility of its realization. However, had it ever become possible for them to return to the state of happy innocence they had lost, and if someone could have shown it to them again and asked if they wanted to return to it, they would certainly have refused.

This existenitalist stuff sure is crap

They are so very cultivated, so very rich and so utterly charming. At the end of each day, they all ask themselves: 'Is it time I stopped?' And they all reply: 'If I did, there would be no meaning to my life.' As if they actually knew what the meaning of life was.

This heart within me I can feel, and I judge that it exists. This world I can touch, and I likewise judge that it exists. There ends all my knowledge, and the rest is construction. (...) Forever I shall be a stranger to myself.

This is the world, he thought. And I am in it.

This evening, which I have tried to spirit away, is a strange burden to me. While time moves on, while the day will soon end and I already wish it gone, there are men who have entrusted all their hopes to it, all their love and their last efforts. There are dying men or others who are waiting for a debt to come due, who wish that tomorrow would never come. There are others for whom the day will break like a pang of remorse; and others who are tired, for whom the night will never be long enough to give them the rest that they need. And I - who have lost my day - what right do I have to wish that tomorrow comes?

This is what happends when you live on Earth. You crack. You hold reality in your hands until it burns and then you have to drop the plate.

They say I don’t exist. They say I am an extension, an indulgence, imagination of a schizophrenic person.

This is what happens when you live on Earth. You crack. You hold reality in your hands until it burns and then you have to drop the plate.

This is what I mean when I say man is condemned to be free: condemned, because he did not create himself, yet nonetheless free, because once cast into the world, he is responsible for everything that he does

This is the terror: to have emerged from nothing, to have a name, consciousness of self, deep inner feelings, an excruciating inner yearning for life and self-expression - and with all this yet to die.

Time is that by which at every moment all things become as nothing in our hands, and thereby lose all their true value.

Throughout the whole absurd life I'd lived, a dark wind had been rising toward me from somewhere deep in my future, across years that were still to come, and as it passed, this wind leveled whatever was offered to me at the time, in years no more real than the ones I was living.

THREE BASIC TRUTHS THREE BASIC TRUTHS Three things have a limited threshold: Time, pain, and death. While truth, love, and knowledge – Are boundless. Three things are needed For humanity to co-exist: Truth, peace and basic needs. Everything else - Is irrelevant.

Time makes us grow old, but it also gives us the day and the night...Lying is a bad thing. It makes you sorry you were ever born. And not to have been born is a curse. You are condemned to live outside time. And when you live outside time, there is no day and night. You don't get a chance to die.

tingkat dan sifat seksualitas seseorang meluas sampai puncak semangatnya

to be sure, all that pointless standing about and waiting day after day always starting all over again without any prospect of change, will wear a man down and make him doubtful, and ultimately incapable of anything but that despairing standing about.

To him, they looked like shadows that his wife had left behind. Size 7 shadows of his wife hung there in long rows, layer upon layer, as if someone had gathered and hung up samples of the infinite possibilities (or at least the theoretically infinite possibilities) implied in the existence of a human being.

To choose not to choose is still a choice for which you alone are responsible.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day, To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. - Macbeth Act V, Scene V

To live for others is real religious life.

To say that one should do nothing because in the end everything is insignificant is honest, but puerile. A man is what he does. A man at the end makes himself a fact, therein lies his significance to himself in the blind eyes of a potential eternity. A man, who does nothing, is nothing (to himself). He does not realize the significance of being as it is; he sees only what is, as what was.³ He takes being but makes nothing out of it. On the other hand, a man who does something is something (to himself). If the Greeks were to be told in their time that despite all their accomplishments, all would, given enough time, become insignificant, they would laugh and continue sailing on the high seas of life. So too should you.

To seek out the upright. No fall but preceded by a declination. He took great marching steps into the nothingness, counting them against his return. Eyes closed, arms oaring. Upright to what? Something nameless in the night, lode or matrix. To which he and the stars were common satellite. Like the great pendulum in its rotunda scribing through the long day movements of the universe of which you may say it knows nothing and yet know it must.

To stay or to go, it amounted to the same thing.

To work and create “for nothing,” to sculpture in clay, to know that one’s creation has no future, to see one’s work destroyed in a day while being aware that fundamentally this has no more importance than building for centuries—this is the difficult wisdom that absurd thought sanctions. Performing these two tasks simultaneously, negating on the one hand and magnifying on the other, is the way open to the absurd creator. He must give the void its colors.

Truth has no continuity. It is the mind that wants to make the experience which it calls truth continuous, and such a mind shall not know truth. Truth is always new; it is to see the same smile, and see that smile newly, to see the same person, and see that person anew, to see the waving palms anew, to meet life anew.

Truth not brought to the service of humanity, is a truth of no value.

T. walked for almost two days, down a country road, past vast verdant fields with rolling hills, littered everywhere with yellow dandelions and stray cats that watched her walk by. She stopped at a small farmhouse and the man inside greeted her and welcomed her inside; he made a remark about how she smelled, but then, continued with his friendly countenance. He offered her bread and milk, and then a cot for the night. T. spent the night at the little farm house, the old farmer sleeping across from her in the one room house. He snored softly and T. reflected that this gentle old man had a heart made of gold and smiled as she thought of his kindness. The next morning the old farmer offered her bread and milk for her journey, and then gave her a small necklace sprinkled with fragrances, and told her that she would need it, as most people in this world were not good.

Ultimately, loneliness is not the experience of lacking but the experience of living. It is part and parcel of the human condition, and, unless a person is resolved, it can only be a matter of time before it resurfaces, often with a vengeance. On this account, loneliness is the manifestation of the conflict between our desire for meaning and the absence of meaning from the universe, an absence that is all the more glaring in modern societies which have sacrificed traditional and religious structures of meaning on the thin altar of truth.

To Vic and other kids his age, the past didn't exist except as a quick, oversimplified Wikipedia snippets, that ultimately didn't matter because they weren't now. Dolores wonders if that is all she really is, a little piece of now, relentlessly pushed forward by time, trying desperately to look back over her shoulder to see what the past could possibly tell her, but caught in a rush that refused to stand still long enough for her to hear what it had to say.

untuk hidup sendirian, orang harus menjadi binatang atau dewa--kata Aristoteles. ada yang ketiga: orang harus menjadi keduanya, yaitu seorang filsuf

To fully appreciate the depth of love, we must captivate ourselves in the moment. Whether it is fate or humanism, it produces a great capacity for happiness with a throw in of anxiety, grief, and isolation. Use those whales as an insidious beginning to produce meaning and humility in your life.

Ultimately, beyond the primordial, brutish labels of man-made institutions, true practical religion of the civilized society must bring oneness. This very process of unification without bigotry is what makes religion, religion, for the word religion comes from the latin "religare", which means "to bind", that is to unify humanity.

Vinculum alius ergo sum - Another bond, therefore I am.

Vinculum alius ergo sum - Another bond, therfore I am.

Waking to the reality of injustice is like the cracking of an eggshell. Your whole world had caged you and you didn’t know it. Once the cage cracks open, you can never get back inside. You are out in the cold and the weather. You can encounter a hundred new dangers. But also, you are free. You can stretch. You can run. You can bite. You can see impossible skies that didn’t exist while you were in the egg.

We are merely pieces of a grander design, even more insignificant than I imagined. When the earth ceases to be, all those stars will shine on. Our deaths will mean nothing to them.

Vidim pod svojim nogama siva iskrenja Bouvilla. Reklo bi se, da tu pod suncem leže brdašca ljuskavih školjki, ivera kostiju, piljaka. Izgubljene među tim podrtinama, sićušne krhotine stakla ili tinjca ispuštaju na trenutke lagane sjevove. Žljebovi, rovovi, sitne brazde, koje teku između ljuštura. Za jedan sat će biti ulice; ja ću hodati po tim ulicama, među zidovima. Za sat ću biti jedan od onih malih crnih čovječuljaka, koje razabirem u ulici Boulibet. Kako se osjećam daleko od njih s visa onog brežuljka. Čini mi se, da ja pripadam nekoj drugoj vrsti. Oni izlazeiz ureda nakon svojega radnog dana; oni s izrazom zadovoljstva gledaju kuće i male trgove, oni misle, da je to njihov grad, ''lijepi purgerski grad''. Ne boje se, osjećaju se kod kuće. Oni su uvijek vidjeli samo pripitomljenu vodu, koja istječe iz pipaca, samo sjvetlost, koja izvire iz žarulje kada se pritisne na prekidač, samo križanačka, kopilanska stabla, koja podupiru vilama. Oni sto puta na dan dobivaju dokaz, da sve izvodi stroj, da se svijet pokorava čvrstim i nepromijenjivim zakonima. Tijela puštena u praznini sva padaju jednakom brzinom, gradski perivoj se zatvara svakoga dana u isti sat (16 zimi, 18 ljeti), olovo se otapa na 335*, posljednji tramvaj polazi od gradske općine u 23h 5. Oni su mirni, malo mrzovoljni, oni misle na Sutra, to jest jednostavno na novo danas: gradovi raspolažu samo jednim danom koji se potpuno isti vraća svakoga jutra. Samo ga malo nakite svake nedjelje. Budale. Odvratno mi je misliti, da ću opet vidjeti njihova debela i spokojna lica. Oni donose zakone, pišu pučke romane, žene se, prave groznu glupost, da rađaju djecu. Međutim velika neodređena priroda ušuljala se u njihov grad, ona se uvukla svuda, u njihovu kuću, u njihove urede, u njih same. Ona se ne miče, ona se drži spokojno u njima, a oni, oni su potpuno utonuli u nju, oni je udišu, a ne vide je, oni misle, da je ona vani, na 20 velikih milja od grada. Ja vidim tu prirodu, ja je vidim. Znam da ona ne trpi zakona: ono, što oni smatraju njenom postojanošću... Ona ima samo navika, a sutradan ih može promijeniti.

We are the Gods, who create Gods, and then we turn into worshipers seeking comfort and solace from those Gods that we create. And we do all this, in order to have as much soothing existence as possible.

We are; therefore I believe.

We are whom who admire

We can't even resist making antimatter, so what makes you think we are going to leave cloning technology untapped? (Douglas Parsley)

We co-existed in peaceful detachment

We create our own chains with which we bind ourselves and then we keep yelling as raving lunatics, why are we not free?

We do not need to look beyond this life to judge the significance of most human relationships.

We call love what binds us to certain creatures only by reference to a collective way of seeing for which books and legends are responsible.

We have an infinite supply of information and yet we cannot read.