I dreamed vaguely of killing myself to wipe out at least one of these superfluous lives. But even my death would have been . In the way, my corpse, my blood on these stones, between these plants, at the back of this smiling garden. And the decomposed flesh would have been in the earth which would receive my bones, at last, cleaned, stripped, peeled, proper and clean as teeth, it would have been : I was for eternity.
( Jean-Paul Sartre )
[ Nausea ]
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