Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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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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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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It is time to get drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get drunk; get drunk without stopping! On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
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Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
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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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It is the hour to be drunken! to escape being the martyred slaves of time, be ceaselessly drunk. On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
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Sexuality is the lyricism of the masses.
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Nearly all our originality comes from the stamp that time impresses upon our sensibility.
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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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An artist is an artist only because of his exquisite sense of beauty, a sense which shows him intoxicating pleasures, but which at the same time implies and contains an equally exquisite sense of all deformities and all disproportion.
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Genius is childhood recalled at will.
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France is not poetic; she even feels, in fact, a congenital horror of poetry. Among the writers who use verse, those whom she will always prefer are the most prosaic.
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Tous les grands poètes deviennent naturellement, fatalement, critiques.
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God is the only being who, in order to reign, doesn't even need to exist.
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A sweetheart is a bottle of wine, a wife is a wine bottle.
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Homme libre, toujours tu chériras la mer.
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Nature... is nothing but the inner voice of self-interest.
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Even if it were proven that God didn't exist, Religion would still be Saintly and Divine.
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Any newspaper, from the first line to the last, is nothing but a web of horrors, I cannot understand how an innocent hand can touch a newspaper without convulsing in disgust.
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For the merchant, even honesty is a financial speculation.
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The soul is a thing so impalpable, so often useless, and sometimes so embarrassing that at this loss I felt only a little more emotion than if, during a walk, I had lost my visiting card.
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La Nature est un temple où de vivants piliersLaissent parfois sortir de confuses paroles;L’homme y passe à travers des forêts de symbolesQui l’observent avec des regards familiers.
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Il n'existe que trois êtres respectables: le prêtre, le guerrier, le poète. Savoir, tuer et créer. Les autres hommes sont taillables et corvéables, faits pour l'écurie, c'est-à-dire pour exercer ce qu'on appelle des professions.