Wednesday, 22 July, 1959: 10:50 A.M.(h/t)
This morning over breakfast S. asked me why I looked so glum.
“Because,” I said, “everything that exists is born for no reason, carries on living through weakness, and dies by accident.”
“Jesus,” S. said. “Aren’t you ever off the clock?”
Friday, January 25, 2013
Le Blog
Jean-Paul Sartre's Blog at the New Yorker:
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