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When the rich wage war it’s the poor who die.

Jean-Paul Sartre

I suppose it is out of laziness that the world is the same day after day. Today it seemed to want to change. And then anything, anything could happen.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Change Myself Mystery Philosophy World
Nothingness lies coiled in the heart of being – like a worm.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Animal Heart Lie
There is only one day left, always starting over: It is given to us at dawn and taken away from us at dusk.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Morning Philosophy Start
In love, one and one are one.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Love One Liner Oneself
It is disgusting – Why must we have bodies?
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Body Funny Philosophy
Genius is what a man invents when he is looking for a way out.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Escape Genius Himself Man
People are like dice. We throw ourselves in the direction of our own choosing.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Choice Direction Ourselves People
I had found my religion: nothing seemed more important to me than a book. I saw the library as a temple.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Book Important Library Myself Religion
My eyes feel all soft, all soft as flesh. I’m going to sleep.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Eyes Feeling Myself
I think of death only with tranquility, as an end. I refuse to let death hamper life. Death must enter life only to define it.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Death End Life Myself Thinking
Better to die on one’s feet than to live on one’s knees.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Death Live Oppression
Only the guy who isn’t rowing has time to rock the boat.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Destroy Man Philosophy
I confused things with their names: that is belief.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Believe Myself
I wanted my own words. But the ones I use have been dragged through I don’t know how many consciences.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Myself Oneself Word
I am going to outlive myself. Eat, sleep, sleep, eat. Exist slowly, softly, like these trees, like a puddle of water, like the red bench in the streetcar.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Eat Existence Live Myself Tree
I want to leave, to go somewhere where I should be really in my place, where I would fit in, but my place is nowhere; I am unwanted.
JEAN-PAUL SARTRE

Leaving Myself Place Worth

When the rich wage war it’s the poor who die.

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When the rich wage war it’s the poor who die.

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