Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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What is exhilarating in bad taste is the aristocratic pleasure of giving offense.
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Gloire et louange à toi, Satan, dans les hauteursDu Ciel, où tu régnas, et dans les profondeursde l’Enfer, où, vaincu, tu rêves en silence!Fais que mon âme un jour, sous l’Arbre de Science,Près de toi se repose, à l’heure où sur ton frontComme un Temple nouveau ses rameaux s’épandront!
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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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Le génie n'est que l'enfance retrouvée à volonté, l'enfance douée maintenant, pour s'exprimer, d'organes virils et de l'esprit analytique qui lui permet d'ordonner la somme de matériaux involontairement amassée.
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Everything for me becomes allegory.
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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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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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Nothing can be done except little by little.
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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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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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All which is beautiful and noble is the result of reason and calculation.
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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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Evil is done without effort, naturally, it is the working of fate; good is always the product of an art.
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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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There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.
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Plus l'homme cultive les arts, moins il bande.
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Soon we shall plunge into the cold darkness; Farewell, vivid brightness of our short-lived summers!
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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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There is no more steely barb than that of the Infinite.
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It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
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In order for the artist to have a world to express he must first be situated in this world, oppressed or oppressing, resigned or rebellious, a man among men.
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Everything considered, work is less boring than amusing oneself.
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Those men get along best with women who can get along best without them.
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To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.