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Existentialism Quotes

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Existentialism Quotes

“There wasn't a single item of importance [in the newspaper]. A tower of illusion, all of it, made of illusory bricks and full of holes. If life were made up only of important things, it really would be a dangerous house of glass, scarcely to be handled carelessly. But everyday life was exactly like the headlines. And so everybody, knowing the meaninglessness of existence, sets the center of his compass at his own home.”

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Book:The Woman in the Dunes
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“Gran is alone, too. I don’t know why I never thought of it before. I think of the last five years, and Gran and Bob living in the same house all that time. I can’t decide if it’s nice or just really sad. “Why don’t you move to America? You could live at our house! I’m sure Mom and Dad wouldn’t mind.” Gran nods. “They’ve offered. Problem is, I love it here.” She raises her arms and kind of waves at the trees. “I love the place and I love the people.” So maybe it’s not sad that Gran lives alone. Maybe it’s a choice.”

LoveHomeCommunityLonelinessExistentialismCommunionAloneness
Author:Wendy Mass
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“I looked back at the boy and his father. The man was holding him close now, his arms wrapped tightly around him as if to shield him from the cold. Their laughter echoed down the street–bright and fleeting, and full of something I hadn’t felt in years. I wondered if that boy would grow up to feel the same sting of disappointment I did, if his father would one day become a stranger too.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“It wasn't the first time I had relied on her in our strange, undefined 'relationship.' Late-night texts, spontaneous meet-ups, testing boundaries—most of the time, she did bite. But this? This felt different. It wasn't just curiosity or intrigue anymore. I wasn't just waiting to see how far I could push her. I needed her. I wanted her in a way I couldn't fully explain, in a way that went far beyond anything I'd felt before.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“The rest of the evening unfolded in a gentle, unspoken rhythm. We didn’t rush through anything. We didn’t need to. There was comfort in the quiet moments between us. I didn’t feel the need to fill the space with words, and neither did she. I didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything right now. For once, I was just... here. And that was enough. The world outside continued to spin, I let myself sink into the moment, the steady rhythm of her breathing, and for once, I didn’t have to wonder if I was doing the right thing. I just had to believe it.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“I deliberate on whether the morning would bring a golden sun, melting the thick snow at the foot of the house, turning ice to rivulets down the stone steps. Or if winter would keep its hold, the chill climbing steadily up the windows, pressing cold fingers against the glass, trying to find its way inside. I wondered if the frost would cling to the dubstep or if it had already settled within.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“I love you."The words slipped from my lips into the cold air—small, fragile, real. Her breath hitched, the first real reaction I'd received from her all evening. My heart hammered in my chest, as I waited. Half of me was hoping she'd say it back, but the other half was terrified that I had said it too soon. Perhaps I had—perhaps I had ruined something. But there was no doubt in my mind. If there was one thing I was certain of in this world, it was that I loved her. Completely. Undeniably.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“You always hear that crap about "kill them with kindness." Fuck that. Honestly, genuinely, truly—fuck that. As long as you let shitty people get away with shitty things, nothing ever changes. Why should I let them insult and degrade me and still grace them with my pearly whites? Why should we let ourselves get worn down by human garbage? It doesn't work that way. It can't. It mustn't.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalExistentialismLiterary FictionPolitcs
Author:Sasha Harding
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“The world is a joke, really—a sick, repetitive joke we all pretend to laugh at while it grinds us down. If this is the one we get, why do we spend it like this? School devours the first two decades of your life, conditioning you to sit and follow orders. Then comes work—a relentless grind that strips away what little freedom you thought you had. Want a house? A holiday? The illusion of comfort? You'll need more hours, more overtime, more bending over backwards for people who don't know your name. And if you're lucky, you'll retire at 65, when your body's too tired and your soul too drained to do anything with the time you've finally bought. By 75, if you even make it that far, you'll be a burden. Some poor nurse or relative will be wiping your arse while they try to keep their own heads above water.”

LifePhilosophyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary FictionPoltics
Author:Sasha Harding
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“It was in times like these I wondered if dying could be a peaceful thing. I'd been cooped up the last few days, struggling with the flu—or at least, that was what I thought it was. My nose felt like a delicate piece of china, one sneeze away from shattering me completely. My throat? Violated. And not in a way that could be mistaken for pleasurable.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“The thing about studying ancient history is that it rips away the comforting illusions of progress. People love to think we've evolved, that we've left behind the savagery of our ancestors. But have we? Sure, we've built taller buildings, faster machines, systems so complex I can't even begin to comprehend them. But at our core, we're still the same selfish, short-sighted creatures we've always been.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyHistoryRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“Halloween was the worst offender, the one day of the year when people revealed the faces they wished they could wear every day. Heroes, villains, sexed-up archetypes—costumes that screamed what they wanted to be, what they couldn't admit they were. It was funny how the tide had turned. Growing up, we cheered for the heroes. They were brave, just, and invincible. But now? Now, everyone rooted for the villains. Villains weren't born evil. They were shaped by pain and rejection. They were the ones who had suffered, the ones people could relate to. Heroes endured tragedy, but villains were tragedy. We could see ourselves in their fractures.”

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Author:Sasha Harding
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“Tears began to fall, hot and relentless, tracing tracks down my face. I didn't even try to stop them. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Maybe it was the pain. The tears kept coming, a relentless tide. My throat ached, my head pounded, and my body felt like it was caving in on itself. For a moment, I hoped that I might just pass out. Anything to make it stop.”

PhilosophyLossGriefFamilyRelationshipEmotionalIsolationExistentialismLiterary Fiction
Author:Sasha Harding
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“There once was this man who found himself talking to his son. He had often told the boy stories of heroes and villains, good and evil. He began by saying that all of us—even himself—had these two sides of ourselves fighting with each other, these two wolves. And these two wolves? They're always fighting. One was all that was pure in the world—the light, the hope, and the sanctuary. The other was all that was bad in the world—the dark, the despair, and the revenge. This same fight is going on inside of you, son... and inside of every other person on this earth. And this fight isn't just once; it's constant, happening every day." Her voice softened, and I could almost picture her sitting cross-legged on the floor, her expression thoughtful as she relayed the story. "What happens after that?" I asked hoarsely, my chest still tight but my mind began to quiet, drawn into her words despite myself. "The little boy in the story asks which wolf wins," she continued, her tone, a warmth so faint it was nearly imperceptible. "And his father looked at him and says, 'The one you feed.”

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Author:Sasha Harding
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“People die all the time. Life is a lot more fragile than we think. So you should treat others in a way that leaves no regrets. Fairly, and if possible, sincerely. It's too easy not to make the effort, then weep and wring your hands after the person dies. Personally, I don't buy it." Yuki leaned against the car door. "But that's real hard, isn't it?" she said. "Real hard," I said. "But it's worth trying for.”

LifeDeathNovelRegretValueExistentialismJapanSurrealJapanese Literature
Book:Dance Dance Dance
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“Next time we will look at this from a much more basic point of view and one antedating all zoology, which, glimpsed only a little after my twentieth year, made write in those days that what is most valuable in man is his eternal and almost divine discontent, a discontent which is a kind of love without a beloved, and like an ache which we feel in members of our body that we do not have. Man is the only being that misses he has never had. And the whole of what we miss, without ever having had it, is never what we call happiness. From this one could start a meditation on happiness, an analysis of that strange condition which makes man the only being who is unhappy for the very reason that he needs to be happy. That is, because he needs to be what he is not.”

PhilosophyHappinessValuesMankindValueManExistentialismDiscontent
Book:An Interpretation of Universal History
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“We had felt no joy in seeing Viena undone and the Germans broken, but rather anguish. Not compassion, but a larger anguish, which was mixed up with our own misery, with the heavy threatening sensation of an irreparable and definitive evil, which was present everywhere. Nestling like gangrene in the guts of Europe and the world. The seed of future harm.”

CompassionExistentialismCautionaryThe Truce
Book:If This Is a Man / The Truce
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“Ain't Good People (The Sonnet) Ain't no good people we, If goodness means blindness. Ain't no practical folks we, If practicality means selfishness. Ain't no sane citizens we, If sanity means indifference. Ain't no smart bunch we, If smartness brings arrogance. Ain't no articulate minds we, If articulation means mindless accuracy. Ain't no civilized society we, If civilization means hypocrisy. We are the force capable of mastering a planet. Let's live not as machines but conscience incarnate.”

CompassionRacismConscienceHuman RightsIntellectSelfishnessExistentialismBigotrySonnetFreethought
Book:When Call The People: My World My Responsibility
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“Ain't Good People (The Sonnet) Ain't no good people we are, If goodness means blindness. Ain't no practical folks we are, If practicality means selfishness. Ain't no sane citizens we are, If sanity means indifference. Ain't no smart bunch we are, If smartness brings arrogance. Ain't no articulate minds we are, If articulation means mindless accuracy. Ain't no civilized society we are, If civilization means hypocrisy. We are the force capable of mastering a planet. Let's live not as machines but conscience incarnate.”

CompassionConscienceIntellectSelfishnessArroganceReasoningExistentialismBigotrySonnetFreethought
Book:When Call The People: My World My Responsibility
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