I marvel at these young people: drinking their coffee, they tell clear, plausible stories. If they are asked what they did yesterday, they aren't embarrassed: they bring you up to date in a few words. If I were in their place, I'd fall all over myself.

Jean-Paul Sartre

Jean-Paul Sartre

Profession: Philosopher
Nationality: French

Some suggestions for you :

Something begins in order to end: an adventure doesn't let itself be extended it achieves significance only through its death.

Something I didn't know any more: a sort of joy.

Existence is an imperfection.

So it comes to this; one doesn't need rest. Why bother about sleep if one isn't sleepy? That stands to reason, doesn't it? Wait a minute, there's a snag somewhere; something disagreeable. Why, now, should it be disagreeable? …Ah, I see; it's life without a break.

Once they have slept together they will have to find something else to veil the enormous absurdity of their existence.

So this is hell. I'd never have believed it. You remember all we were told about the torture-chambers, the fire and brimstone, the "burning marl." Old wives' tales! There's no need for red-hot pokers. Hell is—other people!

I exist. It is soft, so soft, so slow. And light: it seems as though it suspends in the air. It moves.

Perhaps there is nothing in the world I cling to as much as this feeling of adventure; but it comes when it pleases; it is gone so quickly and how empty I am once it has left. Does it, ironically, pay me these short visits in order to show me that I have wasted my life?

When you're alone, you're in bad compny.

She is rotting quietly under her skirts with a melancholy smile, like the odour of violets given off by a decomposing body.

No street corner has any justification over another one. Custom dissolves into nothingness.

Hell is—other people!

In football everything is complicated by the presence of the opposite team.

I said to myself, 'I want to die decently'.