“My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think… and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it's frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire.”
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Analysis of Jean-Paul Sartre's Quote
In this quote by Jean-Paul Sartre, he delves into the concept of existence and the self. He expresses the idea that his thoughts define his very being, emphasizing the inseparable link between his existence and his consciousness. Sartre's reflection on the constant nature of thought and the existential dread that comes with it highlights the complex relationship he sees between the self and the act of thinking. Ultimately, he suggests that it is his own mind that both creates and torments him, pulling him into existence from the void he simultaneously fears and desires.
The Constant Struggle of Existence
Jean-Paul Sartre's words highlight the never-ending battle of existence and self-awareness. In today's modern world, with endless distractions and external influences, it is important to remember the power of our own thoughts and the impact they have on our existence. This quote serves as a reminder to take control of our minds and to embrace the responsibility that comes with being conscious beings.
Jean-Paul Sartre on the Nature of Existence
Sartre's quote delves into the existential idea that our thoughts define our existence. He grapples with the idea that the act of thinking itself is what propels us to exist and gives us a sense of horror at the reality of our existence. This profound reflection sheds light on the complex relationship between our consciousness and our being.
Reflection Questions:
Jean-Paul Sartre's quote delves into the idea of existence and the relationship between our thoughts and our sense of being. Here are some questions to reflect on after reading this quote:
- How does Sartre's idea about existence being tied to our thoughts resonate with your own beliefs about existence and purpose?
- Have you ever experienced a sense of dread or horror at your own existence? What triggered those feelings and how did you cope with them?
- Do you believe that our thoughts are what ultimately define us as individuals? Why or why not?
- In what ways do you think our ability to think and reason contributes to our sense of self-awareness and identity?
- How can Sartre's idea about pulling oneself from nothingness be applied to moments in your own life when you have had to confront difficult realities or challenges?
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“I jump up: it would be much better if I could only stop thinking. Thoughts are the dullest things. Duller than flesh. They stretch out and there's no end to them and they leave a funny taste in the mouth. Then there are words, inside the thoughts, unfinished words, a sketchy sentence which constantly returns: "I have to fi. . . I ex. . . Dead . . . M. de Roll is dead . . . I am not ... I ex. . ." It goes, it goes . . . and there's no end to it. It's worse than the rest because I feel responsible and have complicity in it. For example, this sort of painful rumination: I exist, I am the one who keeps it up. I. The body lives by itself once it has begun. But though I am the one who continues it, unrolls it. I exist. How serpentine is this feeling of existing, I unwind it, slowly. ... If I could keep myself from thinking! I try, and succeed: my head seems to fill with smoke . . . and then it starts again: "Smoke . . . not to think . . . don't want to think ... I think I don't want to think. I mustn't think that I don't want to think. Because that's still a thought." Will there never be an end to it?My thought is me: that's why I can't stop. I exist because I think . . . and I can't stop myself from thinking. At this very moment, it's frightful, if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence. Thoughts are born at the back of me, like sudden giddiness, I feel them being born behind my head ... if I yield, they're going to come round in front of me, between my eyes, and I always yield, the thought grows and grows and there it is, immense, filling me completely and renewing my existence.”
“I am. I am, I exist, I think, therefore I am; I am because I think, why do I think? I don't want to think any more, I am because I think that I don't want to be, I think that I . . . because . . . ugh!”
“But for me there is neither Monday nor Sunday: there are days which pass in disorder, and then, sudden lightning like this one. Nothing has changed and yet everything is different. I can't describe it, it's like the Nausea and yet it's just the opposite: at last an adventure happens to me and when I question myself I see that it happens that I am myself and that I am here; I am the one who splits in the night, I am as happy as the hero of a novel.”
“INEZ: What's the matter?ESTELLE: I feel so queer. Don't you ever get taken that way? When I can't see myself I begin to wonder if I really and truly exist. I pat myself just to make sure, but it doesn't help much.”
“As for me, I am mean: that means that I need the suffering of others to exist. A flame. A flame in their hearts. When I am all alone, I am extinguished.”
“I glance around the room. What a comedy! All these people sitting there, looking serious, eating. No, they aren't eating: they are recuperating in order to successfully finish their tasks. Each one of them has his little personal difficulty which keeps him from noticing that he exists; there isn't one of them who doesn't believe himself indispensable to something or someone. Didn't the Self-Taught Man tell me the other day: "No one better qualified than Noucapie to undertake this vast synthesis?" Each one of them does one small thing and no one is better qualified than he to do it. No one is better qualified than the commercial traveler over there to sell Swan Toothpaste. No one better qualified than that interesting young man to put his hand under his girl friend's skirts. And I am among them and if they look at me they must think that no one is better qualified than I to do what I'm doing. But I know. I don't look like much, but I know I exist and that they exist. And if I knew how to convince people I'd go and sit down next to that handsome white-haired gentleman and explain to him just what existence means. I burst out laughing at the thought of the face he would make. The Self-Taught Man looks at me with surprise. I'd like to stop but I can't; I laugh until I cry.”