Jean-Paul Sartre Quotes

My entire soul is a cry, and all my work is a commentary on that cry.

I wanted to understand pain and the human condition, which is full of pain and regret and sadness - and some happiness, if you're lucky.

My painting carries with it the message of pain.

Honestly, the pains of humanity have been draining me.

But how to explain suffering because of a man? It's not explainable. With that kind of suffering, a person feels as if they're in hell, because there is no nobility, no greatness - only misery.

When I'm in pain and grief and despair, my throat is clenched and my heart hurts.

During depression the world disappears. Language itself. One has nothing to say. Nothing. No small talk, no anecdotes. Nothing can be risked on the board of talk. Because the inner voice is so urgent in its own discourse: How shall I live? How shall I manage the future? Why should I go on?

Unhappiness was my god.

There is nothing alive more agonized than man / of all that breathe and crawl across the earth.

May new sufferings torment your soul.

Misery pulls away the brackets of life leaving you to free fall.

If anyone could look into my head See or feel the dread that has captured Me or see within this sad, unhappy brain They would only turn away Turn away.

My soul is a dark ploughed field In the cold rain; My soul is a broken field Ploughed by pain.

There are moments when, even to the sober eye of Reason, the world of our sad humanity must assume the aspect of Hell.

We are overcome by anguish at this illogical moment of humanity.

I could believe only in the hell I was living in, a hell on earth, and it was man-made, not God-made.

I am burning myself up and will always do so.

I drink because I wish to multiply my sufferings.

There's your labyrinth of suffering. We are all going. Find your way out of that maze.

Sorrow lies like a heartbeat behind everything I have written.

Grief jumps out at you when you're least expecting it.

In deep sadness there is no place for sentimentality.

Grief is the agony of an instant; the indulgence of grief the blunder of a life.

This tragic brow, these closed eyes, eyebrows raised and knotted.