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Existentialism Quotes

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Existentialism Quotes

“I don’t do publicity, I never will. My entire body of works thrives despite the absolute absence of publicity. I write in silence, I publish in silence, I continue the struggle in silence - in silence and alone. I don't have an industry to back me up - all I have is my dream - the dream of an undivided world.”

“Both Bratva and thieves in law would like to call themselves nihilists and anarchists because they don’t support the established government, but they govern nonetheless, and you can’t be an anarchist unless you follow its rule. Crime and anarchy are no more synonymous than nihilism and existentialism, or fatalism and determinism; so many isms there was bound to be a schism.”

“As we face inseparable technological and existential conditions, we enter an era of Techistentialism. AI will increasingly provide insights that enable more-informed predictive decision-making, humans should remain wary of an inadvertent reliance on prescriptive algorithms dictating specific decisions. Complex and uncertain environments inherently involve unknown unknowns; these are situations where we need to be agile despite the lack of immediate answers.”

“Maybe the existential risk is not machines taking over the world, but rather the opposite, where humans start responding like idle machines - unable to connect the emerging dots of our UN-VICE world.”

“I was dead for a billion of years and in a few years I will be dead again. I'm not conscious of that state of lifelessness which was before I came to life. And I'm not sure about the lifelessness that is yet to come. Life is only a station between these two states. It is a chance to experience and to do something, the only chance known with certainty. The major issue is to find what is worth living for, but an even greater issue is to find what is worth dying for. We all die anyway.”

“Las conclusiones más significativas se refieren a la necesidad de que cada individuo se forme por sí mismo su propia opinión de la realidad sin aceptar acríticamente la autoridad de los maestros occidentales, el deber moral de usar los propios dones o bienes (inteligencia, poder, dinero) teniendo siempre presente una proyección social, la obligación de respetar la libertad de los demás al tiempo que se defiende la propia o la posibilidad de cohonestar la (prioritaria) autoexigencia personal con otros valores respetables como el servicio a la nación. Al final, el discurso se transforma, a partir de una advertencia a los jóvenes japoneses de 1914, en un alegato a favor de la independencia personal, de la libertad y de la tolerancia, es decir, en una afirmación de valores humanistas de significado universal.”

“The Sensitive Scarred by Stewart Stafford Bizarre monolith world, We waylaid pilgrims tread In a whirligig of fair and ill Serrated lots for drawing. Consider those without armour, Senses wounded beyond measure, With struggles incomprehensible, The burdened head asphyxiates. Devoid of several layers of skin, Internal organs lacerated—daily, A ribcage so spinelessly cracked, Clarity's chains relentlessly taut. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“People love to say, nobody is above the law, which is one of the most dangerous delusions of the social psyche. It is a lie fed to the meek citizens of a nation to keep them obedient to the state, even in the face of corruption. Every human is above the law, until the law that governs the society is made incorruptible (or at least close to incorruptible).”

“There was only that bobbing bundle of stringy, dirty-blonde hair fading into a sea of other heads bobbing and faces coming and going, of storylines intersecting and entwining and then fraying only to become irretrievably lost in the interminable wave-pattern of curiosities fleeting and nothingness everlasting.”

“There are two inevitable conditions of life, confronting all of us, which destroy its whole meaning; (1) death, which may at any moment pounce upon each of us; and (2) the transitoriness of all our works, which so soon pass away and leave no trace. Whatever we may do--found companies, build palaces and monuments, write songs and poems--it is all not for long time. Soon it passes away, leaving no trace. And therefore, however we may conceal it from ourselves, we cannot help seeing that the significance of our life cannot lie in our personal fleshly existence, the prey of incurable suffering and inevitable death, nor in any social institution or organization. Whoever you may be who are reading these lines, think of your position and of your duties--not of your position as landowner, merchant, judge, emperor, president, minister, priest, soldier, which has been temporarily allotted you by men, and not of the imaginary duties laid on you by those positions, but of your real positions in eternity as a creature who at the will of Someone has been called out of unconsciousness after an eternity of non-existence to which you may return at any moment at his will. Think of your duties-- not your supposed duties as a landowner to your estate, as a merchant to your business, as emperor, minister, or official to the state, but of your real duties, the duties that follow from your real position as a being called into life and endowed with reason and love.”

“You didn't succeed. Well, what of that? There's nothing to prove, you know, and the revolution's not a question of virtue but of effectiveness. There is no heaven. There's work to be done, that's all. And you must do what you're cut out for; all the better if it comes easy to you. The best work is not the work that takes the most sacrifice. It's the work in which you can best succeed.”

“I was tempted by the Resistance, about which people were beginning to talk just about the time I discovered that I was patriotic. You are smiling? You are wrong. I made my discoery on a subway platofmr at the Chatelet station. A dog had strayed into the labryinth of passageways. Big, wiry-haired, one ear cocked, eyes laughing, he was cavorting and sniffing the passing legs. I have a very old and very faithful attachment for dogs. I like them because they always forgive. I called this one, who hesitated, obviously won over, waggting his tail enthusiastically for a few yards ahead of me. Just then, a young German soldier, who was walking briskly, passed me. Having reached the dog, he caressed the shaggy head. Without hesitating, the animal fell in step with the same enthusiasm and disappared with him. From the resentment and the sort of rage I felt against the German soldier, it was clear to me that my reaction was patriotic. If the dog had followed a French civilian, I'd not even have thought of it. But, on the contrary, I imagined that friendly dog as the mascot of a German regiment and that made me fly into a rage. Hence the test was convincing.”

“But then one voice arose from the babbling clamor to silence them all. It was a voice he hadn’t heard in a while. Steady and self-assured and not really worried about what bad things may or may not happen because bad things and good things seemed to always be taking turns anyway in what was really just the harmonic polyrhythm of an intrinsic symphony perpetually flowing and interweaving.”

“Họ đang nhìn tôi. Họ đang quan sát tôi. Họ đang theo dõi tôi. Họ không nói một lời nào. Nhưng tôi biết họ sẽ không tha thứ cho tôi. Sẽ không bao giờ họ tha thứ cho tôi. Những lỗi lầm của tôi không thể nào tha thứ được. Tội lỗi! Tội lỗi! Tôi ngửa đầu nhìn họ. Họ bất động như những ông phỗng đang xếp hàng trong một cuộc duyệt binh. Trên mặt họ không có một nét cảm xúc nào. Tất cả chỉ là trống rỗng. Trống rỗng trên khuôn mặt họ. Trống rỗng trong cái nhìn của họ. Tôi mệt mỏi nhắm mắt lại nhưng những khuôn mặt vẫn hiện lên trong đầu tôi, vẫn những khuôn mặt ấy, vẫn những cái nhìn trống rỗng ấy. Tại sao chúng nó không chịu đi? Tại sao chúng nó cứ bám lấy tôi dai dẳng như những con rận bám trên người? Không có tôi liệu chúng nó sẽ ra sao? Chúng nó có chết không? Nếu tôi không tồn tại thì liệu chúng nó có tồn tại không? Chắc là không. Chắc là có. Có trời mới biết được. Có trời mới hiểu tại làm sao lại ra nông nỗi này.”

“Thêm lần nữa Zarathoustra thu kín mình, ngồi trên tảng đá, suy nghĩ. Thình lình hắn đứng dậy: Tội nghiệp! Tội nghiệp cho con người cao thượng, và mặt hắn rắn đanh… Cơn đam mê của ta và xúc cảm của ta - quan hệ gì nào? Có phải ta kiếm tìm hạnh phúc? Ta kiếm tìm tác phẩm của ta… Đây là buổi rạng đông của riêng ta, ngày riêng của ta bắt đầu. Mọc lên mau, hãy mọc lên mau, ôi buổi trưa rực rỡ choáng váng!”

“Я начал читать экзистенциальные книжки еще в старших классах школы и продолжил читать в колледже. У Сартра и Камю я нашел описание борьбы индивидуума, не вписывавшегося в окружающую среду. Герман Гессе писал о поиске святого в хаосе и боли. Экзистенциалисты не верили в познание жизни только посредством разума. Они знакомили меня с концепцией испытания отчуждением и отказом от оправдания чужих надежд ради жизни, полной уникального смысла.”

“Empty Spaces I wanted to feel less. To not be burdened by emotion, To not feel sadness, To not know loss. I envied the inanimate, The trees that stand proudly in winter, Not missing their leaves. I wanted to be weightless, To not experience limitation. I didn’t want time to pass, The blur of days, months, years. It moved too quickly, I wanted to grasp on, Hold it. It eluded me, Intangible, Like light. I wanted to preserve life before you were gone. I didn’t want to know grief. But the pain kept me connected. It meant that I loved you, It meant that I would always be a little broken, It meant that our love filled all of the empty spaces. It meant that you would be with me... forever.”

“Interstellar Corduroy Roy by Stewart Stafford Taunted since he was a boy, Thorn-crowned “Corduroy Roy”, Hurled across sanity’s border, A reluctant thundercloud hoarder. His spacesuit? Pants! - Shade? Maroon! Playing soccer-tennis on the moon, Astronaut dust, his alma mater, Hitched to Earth in a pocket crater. Leapfrogged back to terra firma, Just in time for his dog’s dewormer, Gravity’s cords in the machine, unclean, Freed himself from the lunar silt routine. © 2026, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“After dinner, they walked through Trafalgar Square, which was also very busy, with its stunning fountains and eye-catching statues attracting crowds of visitors. Some of these visitors enjoyed feeding pigeons and taking pictures with them. They left the noisy sounds of the square behind and walked slowly towards St. James' Park to seek the sound of silence for a change before heading home. Unlike Trafalgar Square and the surrounding areas, the park was engulfed in silence, interrupted only by the sounds of ducks and swans that moved suddenly in the pond as they approached it. As they sat on a bench facing the beautiful, peaceful pond that seemed to be in deep sleep, Alina sighed. “I miss this peace and silence. I don't think I can continue to live in the city.” “I feel the same,” he said as he laid his hand on hers, gazing out at the night. “I’m really delighted that we both like a quiet life. I really love it, although I must admit that I sometimes feel bored if I have to stay in a quiet place for too long. I guess it’s human nature. You can never please humans. No matter what the weather—shine or rain—some will always complain! Humans are so hard to please that even if you grant them an eternal easy life in Paradise, some will still want to go back to Earth, even if living on Earth means struggling, starving, bleeding, and suffering!” “I’m really impressed that you like a quiet life despite the fact that you were brought up in a large city...”

“He was just a word for me. I did not see the man in the name any more than you do. Do you see him? Do you see the story? Do you see anything? It seems to me I am trying to tell you a dream - making a vein attempt, because no relation of a dream can convey the dream-sensation, that commingling of absurdity, surprise, and bewilderment in a tremor of struggling revolt, that notion of being captured by the incredible which is of the very essence of dreams... No, it is impossible; it is impossible to convey the life-sensation of any given epoch of one's existence - that which makes its truth, its meaning - its subtle and penetrating essence. We live, as we dream, alone...”

“The nihilist attitude manifests a certain truth. In this attitude one experiences the ambiguity of the human condition. But the mistake is that it defines man not as the positive existence of a lack, but as a lack at the heart of existence, whereas the truth is that existence is not a lack as such. And if freedom is experienced in this case in the form of rejection, it is not genuinely fulfilled. The nihilist is right in thinking that the world possesses no justification and that he himself is nothing. But he forgets that it is up to him to justify the world and to make himself exist validly. Instead of integrating death into life, he sees in it the only truth of the life, which appears to him as a disguised death. However, there is life, and the nihilist knows that he is alive. That’s where his failure lies. He rejects existence without managing to eliminate it. He denies any meaning to his transcendence, and yet he transcends himself. A man who delights in freedom can find an ally in the nihilist because they contest the serious world together, but he also sees in him an enemy insofar as the nihilist is a systematic rejection of the world and man, and if this rejection ends up in a positive desire destruction, it then establishes a tyranny which freedom must stand up against.”

“Existence, for me, is not merely suffering — it is a meticulous form of torture disguised as life. I move through a world that calls itself shared, yet what I carry is mine alone: a private apocalypse, constant and precise. Others ache, yes — but not like this. Not like me.”