I am sure that fifteen minutes would be enough to reach supreme self-contempt. No thank you, I want none of that.
What people would like is that a coward or a hero be born that way.
I love you enormously. I'm spending a little time away from you—quite absurd and contingent. I would so like to see you, my stubborn little thing, and tell you my stories and hold your hand. You are my love, you good little being. Far from you I measure the nothingness of the flesh, and I am not having much fun.
Existence is without memory; of the vanished it retains nothing - not even a memory.
The existentialist says at once that man is anguish.
What we might call everyday morality is exclusive of ethical anguish.