Quotessence
Home / Books / Nausea

Nausea

Book by Jean-Paul Sartre · 50 quotes · Nausea, Existentialism, Sartre

Filter quotes by topic

AllNauseaExistentialismSartreExistenceThinkingHappensIfsPeoplePhilosophySolitudeAdventureBehindsDespairEnoughI CanJean PaulLifeMenNightSelf Reflection

Nausea Quotes

“As for the square at Meknes, where I used to go every day, it's even simpler: I do not see it at all anymore. All that remains is the vague feeling that it was charming, and these five words that are indivisibly bound together: a charming square at Meknes. ... I don't see anything any more: I can search the past in vain, I can only find these scraps of images and I am not sure what they represent, whether they are memories or just fiction.”

I CanFeelingsTogetherPastUsedMemoriesFictionFiveRemainsBoundsVainNot SureSquaresCharmingVagueScrapAll That Remains
Book:Nausea
Create image

“I grow warm, I begin to feel happy. There is nothing extraordinary in this, it is a small happiness of Nausea: it spreads at the bottom of the viscous puddle, at the bottom of out time - the time of purple suspenders, and broken chair seats; it is made of white, soft instants, spreading at the edge, like an oil stain. No sooner than born, it is already old, it seems as though I have known it for twenty years.”

FeelsYearsMadeSeemsGrowsBornWhiteKnownBrokenTwentiesExtraordinaryBottomEdgesSpreadWarmOilInstantSeatsChairsPurpleStainsPuddlesNauseaSuspenders
Book:Nausea
Create image

“But for me there is neither Monday nor Sunday: there are days which pass in disorder, and then, sudden lightning like this one. Nothing has changed and yet everything is different. I can't describe it, it's like the Nausea and yet it's just the opposite: at last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits in the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel.”

I CanDifferentHappensLastsNightNovelChangedAdventureHeroOppositesSundayDisorderSplitsLightningMondayHere I AmNausea
Book:Nausea
Create image

“She suffers as a miser. She must be miserly with her pleasures, as well. I wonder if sometimes she doesn't wish she were free of this monotonous sorrow, of these mutterings which start as soon as she stops singing, if she doesn't wish to suffer once and for all, to drown herself in despair. In any case, it would be impossible for her: she is bound.”

IfsWellsSometimesWould BeSufferingWishPleasureWonderCasesImpossibleSorrowDespairSingingBoundsMonotonousMisersMuttering
Book:Nausea
Create image

“The sun is not ridiculous, quite the contrary. On everything I like, on the rust of the construction girders, on the rotten boards of the fence, a miserly, uncertain light falls, like the look you give, after a sleepless night, on decisions made with enthusiasm the day before, on pages you have written in one spurt without crossing out a word.”

GivingLooksMadeLightNightFallDecisionSunWrittenPagesContraryRidiculousEnthusiasmBoardsConstructionUncertainFenceRottenCrossingsRustDecisions MadeSleepless Nights
Book:Nausea
Create image

“I know. I know that I shall never again meet anything or anybody who will inspire me with passion. 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. I know I'll never jump again.”

IfsThinkingKnowsMomentsJobsPassionEnergyInspireStartingGenerosityExistentialismBlindnessPrecipiceNausea
Book:Nausea
Create image

“My whole life is behind me. I see it completely, I see its shape and the slow movements which have brought me this far. There is little to say about it: a lost game, that’s all. I had lost the first round. I wanted to play the second and I lost again: I lost the whole game. At the same time, I learned that you always lose. Only the rascals think they win. Now I am going to be like Anny, I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.”

LifeLossDespairLife And LivingExistentialismSartre
Book:Nausea
Create image

“The doctor wasn't the one to let himself be hypnotized by an old madman on the verge of having his fit; one good blow, a few rough, lashing words, that's what they need. The doctor has experience. He is a professional in experience: doctors, priests, magistrates and army officers know men through and through as if they had made them. I am ashamed for M. Achille. We are on the same side, we should have stood up against them. But he left me, he went over to theirs: he honestly believes in experience. Not in his, not in mine. In Doctor Roge's.”

ExperienceMadness
Book:Nausea
Create image

“In 1787, at an inn near Moulins, an old man was dying, a friend of Diderot, trained by the philosophers. The priests of the neighbourhood were nonplussed: they had tried everything in vain; the good man would have no last rites, he was a pantheist. M. de Rollebon, who was passing by and who believed in nothing, bet the Cure of Moulins that he would need less than two hours to bring the sick man back to Christian sentiments. The Cure took the bet and lost: Rollebon began at three in the morning, the sick man confessed at five and died at seven. “Are you so forceful in argument?” asked the Cure, “You outdo even us.” “I did not argue,” answered M. de Rollebon, “I made him fear Hell.”

FearHellAtheismTheism
Book:Nausea
Create image

“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.”

BeautifulReflectionUglyNauseaSartreJean Paul
Book:Nausea
Create image