When she was in Djibouti and I was in Aden, and I used to go and see her for twenty-four hours, she managed to multiply the misunderstandings between us until there were exactly sixty minutes before I had to leave; sixty minutes, just long enough to make you feel the seconds passing one by one.
Finally, it is worth mentioning, in the interest of thoroughness, that the defeat exasperated the conflict between generations. For four years the combatants of 1914 reproached those of 1940 for having lost the war, and those of 1940, in reply, accused their elders of having lost the peace.
Nausea's very subject is the randomness, the contingency, the superfluity, of the world; where better to begin than with Roquentin's own randomness, his contingency as an invented character?
Roquentin wonders if he could do the same as the man who wrote the tune. Not in music, but in the realm of art. Not a history book, because that is about what has existed, and existence is pointless, is not necessary.
The Intellectual is someone who meddles in what does not concern him.
What do I care about Jupiter? Justice is a human issue, and I do not need a god to teach it to me.