He thinks for an instant, then says gently: 'No reason for existing.you undoubtedly mean, Monsieur, that life is without a goal? Isn't that what one might call pessimism?' I laughed too loud: I saw several faces turn towards me. The Self-Taught Man becomes serious, he makes an effort to understand me. 'I was just thinking,' I tell him, laughing, 'that here we sit, all of us, eating and drinking to preserve our precious existence and really there is nothing, nothing, absolutely no reason for existing.' 'You are gay, Monsieur,' the Self-Taught Man says to me circumspectly. I'd like to stop but I can't I laugh until I cry. The Self-Taught Man looks at me with surprise. I burst out laughing at the thought of the face he would make.

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 don't look like much, but I know I exist and that they exist. 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. No one better qualified than that interesting young man to put his hand under his girl friend's skirts. No one is better qualified than the commercial traveler over there to sell Swan Toothpaste. 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. 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. No, they aren't eating: they are recuperating in order to successfully finish their tasks. What a comedy! All these people sitting there, looking serious, eating.

Once they have slept together they will have to find something else to veil the enormous absurdity of their existence. So they're in no hurry, they delay and they are not wrong.

They are young and well built, they have enough to last them another thirty years. But since they are young, chaste and decent, since each one wants to keep his self-respect and that of the other, since love is a great poetic thing which you must not frighten away, several times a week they go to dances and restaurants, offering the spectacle of their ritual, mechanical dances.Īfter all, you have to kill time. I don't listen to them any more: they annoy me. Publisher: New Directions Paperback, 1964

Quotes taken from the LLoyd Alexander translation Nausea - Jean-Paul Sartre Nausea - Jean-Paul Sartre

Jean paul sartre's nausea