It uneasy lot at best

We all indulge in the strange, pleasant process called thinking, but
when it comes to saying, even to someone opposite, what w

It is an uneasy lot at best, to be what we call highly
taught and yet not to enjoy: to be present at this great spectacle of life and
never to be liberated from a small hungry shivering self – never to be fully
possessed by the glory we behold, never to have our consciousness rapturously
transformed into the vividness of a thought, the ardour of a passion, the
energy of an action, but always to be scholarly and uninspired, ambitious and
timid, scrupulous and dim-sighted.

From Middelmarch, by George Elliot Read More

But when it comes to thought

We all indulge in the strange, pleasant process called thinking, but
when it comes to saying, even to someone opposite, what w

But when it comes to thought, it is I who continue it, I who
unwind it. I exist. I think I exist. Oh, how long and serpentine this feeling
of existing is – and I unwind it, slowly….If only I could prevent myself from
thinking! I try, I succeed: it seems as if my head is filling with smoke….And
now it starts again: ‘Smoke…. Mustn’t think…. I don’t want to think….I think
that I don’t want to think. I mustn’t think that I don’t want to think. Because
it is still a thought. Will there never be an end to it?

My thought is me: that is why I can’t stop. I exist
by what I think… and I can’t prevent myself from thinking.

From Nausea, by Jean-Paul Sartre Read More