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A day in which I don’t write leaves a taste of ashes.

Simone de Beauvoir

She would never change, but one day at the touch of a fingertip she would fall to dust.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Change Fall Herself Touch
One can never know oneself but only narrate oneself.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Be Yourself Oneself Philosophy
To will oneself moral and to will oneself free are one and the same decision.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Decision Freedom Oneself Willing
Literature takes its revenge on reality by making it the slave of fiction.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Literature Reality Revenge Slave
The body is not a thing, it is a situation: it is our grasp on the world and our sketch of our project.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Body Philosophy World
A man never begins by presenting himself as an individual of a certain sex; it goes without saying that he is a man.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Beginning Himself Man Sex
Life is occupied in both perpetuating itself and in surpassing itself; if all it does is maintain itself, then living is only not dying.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Death Life Live
It is dreadful to think that behind me my own past is no longer anything but shifting darkness.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Darkness Past Philosophy Thinking
A day in which I don’t write leaves a taste of ashes.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Myself Poet Taste Writing
The word love has by no means the same sense for both sexes, and this is one cause of the serious misunderstandings that divide them.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Love Perspective Understand
I love you, with a touch of tragedy and quite madly.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

I Love You Mad Touch Tragedy
Literature took the place in my life that had once been occupied by religion: it absorbed me entirely, and transfigured my life.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Life Literature Place Religion
The characteristic feature of all ethics is to consider human life as a game that can be won or lost and to teach man the means of winning.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Character Game Human Life Teaching Win
It is so tiring to hate someone you love.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Break Up Hate Love
The body is the instrument of our hold on the world.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Body Spiritual World
Today, however, we are having a hard time living because we are so bent on outwitting death.
SIMONE DE BEAUVOIR

Death Hard Time Live

A day in which I don’t write leaves a taste of ashes.

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A day in which I don’t write leaves a taste of ashes.

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