Imagination is not an empirical or superadded power of consciousness, it is the whole of consciousness as it realizes its freedom.
To believe is to know you believe, and to know you believe is not to believe.
Once we know and are aware, we are responsible for our action and our inaction. We can do something about it or ignore it. Either way, we are still responsible.
If I relegate impossible Salvation to the prop room, what remains? A whole man, composed of all men and as good as all of them and no better than any.
Everything comes to us from others. To Be is to belong to someone.
It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish.
Good digestions, the gray monotony of provincial life, and the boredom-ah the soul-destroying boredom-of long days of mild content.
What never vary are the necessities of being in the world, of having to labor and to die there.
I do not feel that I am the product of chance, a speck of dust in the universe, but someone who was expected, prepared, prefigured. In short, a being whom only a Creator could put here; and this idea of a creating hand refers to God.
We do not wish to say only that a man is responsible for his own individuality, but that he is responsible for that of all men.
Words There is no good father, that’s the rule. Don’t lay the blame on men but on the bond of paternity, which is rotten. To beget children, nothing better; to have them, what iniquity!
To whomever gives a kiss or a blow Render a kiss or blow But to whomever gives when you are unable to return Offer all the hatred in your heart For you were slaves and he enslaves you.
Man’s existence precedes his essence.
It is always more valuable to report the truth.
The revolution you dream of is not ours. You don’t want to change the world; you want to blow it up.
I don’t know. Everything. Living. Smoking.
It is meaningless that we are born, it is meaningless that we die.
Perception is naturally surpassed toward action; better yet, it can be revealed only in and through projects of action. The world is revealed as an “always future hollow”, for we are always future to ourselves.
One of the chief motives of artistic creation is certainly the need of feeling that we are essential in relationship to the world.
What the painter adds to the canvas are the days of his life. The adventure of living, hurtling toward death.