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Quote by Simone de Beauvoir

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Memoirs of a Dutiful Daughter

This memoir delves into the author's journey as a daughter, offering insights into the cultural and familial dynamics that shaped her upbringing. more

Author

Simone de Beauvoir
Simone de Beauvoir

Simone de Beauvoir was a French writer, philosopher, feminist, and social activist. Known for her profound philosophical thoughts and her advocacy for women's status, she is one of the most influential female thinkers of the 20th century. Her works spanned various genres, including novels, philosophical essays, plays, and memoirs, with her most famous work being 'The Second Sex'. more

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“Anne, I don't want to live. . . . Now listen, life is lovely, but I Can't Live It. I can't even explain. I know how silly it sounds . . . but if you knew how it Felt. To be alive, yes, alive, but not be able to live it. Ay that's the rub. I am like a stone that lives . . . locked outside of all that's real. . . . Anne, do you know of such things, can you hear???? I wish, or think I wish, that I were dying of something for then I could be brave, but to be not dying, and yet . . . and yet to [be] behind a wall, watching everyone fit in where I can't, to talk behind a gray foggy wall, to live but to not reach or to reach wrong . . . to do it all wrong . . . believe me, (can you?) . . . what's wrong. I want to belong. I'm like a jew who ends up in the wrong country. I'm not a part. I'm not a member. I'm frozen.”

DeathSuicide
Book:Anne Sexton: A Self-portrait in Letters
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“Having arrived at this point, he had found no direction in which to go save that of further withdrawal into a subjectivity which refused existence to any reality or law but its own. During these postwar years he had lived in solitude and carefully planned ignorance of what was happening in the world. Nothing had importance save the exquisitely isolated cosmos of his own consciousness. Then little by little he had had the impression that the light of meaning, the meaning of everything was dying. Like a flame under a glass it had dwindled, flickered and gone out, and all existence, including his own hermetic structure from which he had observed existence, had become absurd and unreal.”

ExistenceSolitudeMeaningIsolationModernismSubjectivityMeaninglessnessEnnuiPostwarCollapse Of Meaning
Book:The Spider's House
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“The fear of rape puts many women in their place - indoors, intimidated, dependent yet again on material barriers and protectors... I was advised to stay indoors at night, to wear baggy clothes, to cover or cut my hair, to try to look like a man, to move someplace more expensive, to take taxis, to buy a car, to move in groups, to get a man to escort me—all modern versions of Greek walls and Assyrian veils, all asserting it was my responsibility to control my own and men's behavior rather than society's to ensure my freedom. I realized that many women had been so successfully socialized to know their place that they had chosen more conservative, gregarious lives without realizing why. The very desire to walk alone had been extinguished in them—but it had not in me.”

NatureFeminismSolitudeTravelExploreWanderlustRape Culture
Book:Wanderlust: A History of Walking
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“We learn about life by exploring the texture and depth of space that composes our private inner world. In solitude we revisit our wounded feelings, sins, doubts, and deepest despair, replay poignant memories of loved ones, project what we are becoming, and ascertain the purpose of our being.”

Life LessonsMemoriesSolitudeLife Lessons QuotesIntrospectionInner SelfMeaningful LifeIntrospectiveSolitude QuotesPurposeful LifePrivate ThoughtsInner Vampire
Book:Dead Toad Scrolls
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“I avoid the looming visitor, Flee him adroitly around corners, Hating him, wishing him well; Lest if he confront me I be forced to say what is in no wise true: That he is welcome; that I am unoccupied; And forced to sit while the potted roses wilt in the crate or the sonnet cools Bending a respectful nose above such dried philosophies As have hung in wreaths from the rafters of my house since I was a child. Some trace of kindliness in this, no doubt, There may be. But not enough to keep a bird alive. There is a flaw amounting to a fissure In such behaviour.”

PoetrySolitudeReclusiveUnsociability
Book:Collected Poems
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