Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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What is exhilarating in bad taste is the aristocratic pleasure of giving offense.
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Everything for me becomes allegory.
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Modernity is the transient, the fleeting, the contingent; it is one half of art, the other being the eternal and the immovable.
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Toutes les beautés contiennent, comme tous les phénomènes possibles, quelque chose d'éternel et quelque chose de transitoire - d'absolu et de particulier.
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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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The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.
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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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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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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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To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
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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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It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
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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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Plus l'homme cultive les arts, moins il bande.
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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.
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Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness; Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!
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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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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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There is no more steely barb than that of the Infinite.
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Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses.