Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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Et à quoi bon exécuter des projets, puisque le projet est en lui-même une jouissance suffisante?
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If rape and poison, dagger and burning, have still not embroidered their pleasant designs on the banal canvas of our pitiable destinies, it’s because our souls, alas, are not bold enough!
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Everything for me becomes allegory.
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J'ai toujours été étonné qu'on laissât les femmes entrer dans les églises. Quelle conversation peuvent-elles avoir avec Dieu?
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To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
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To say the word Romanticism is to say modern art - that is, intimacy, spirituality, color, aspiration towards the infinite, expressed by every means available to the arts.
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There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.
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It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
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The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.
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Swarming city, city full of dreams, Where the ghosts in broad daylight hang up the passers-by!
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'En toi je tomberai, végétale ambroisie,Grain précieux jeté par l'éternel Semeur,Pour que de notre amour naisse la poésieQui jaillira vers Dieu comme une rare fleur!'
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Evil is done without effort, naturally, it is the working of fate; good is always the product of an art.
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Il y a dans tout homme, à toute heure, deux postulations simultanées, l'une vers Dieu, l'autre vers Satan.
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Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness; Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!
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Everything considered, work is less boring than amusing oneself.
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The insatiable thirst for everything which lies beyond, and which life reveals, is the most living proof of our immortality.
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This life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed with a desire to change his bed.
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How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.
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Plus l'homme cultive les arts, moins il bande.
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The lover of life makes the whole world into his family, just as the lover of the fair sex creates his from all the lovely women he has found, from those that could be found, and those who are impossible to find.
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Progress, this great heresy of decay.
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There is no such thing as a long piece of work, except one that you dare not start.
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Those men get along best with women who can get along best without them.
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Common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist only a little, and that true reality is only in dreams.