Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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La plus belle des ruses du diable est de vous persuader qu'il n'existe pas.
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Poetry and progress are like two ambitious men who hate one another with an instinctive hatred, and when they meet upon the same road, one of them has to give place.
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I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.
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La femme est naturelle, c'est-à-dire abominable.
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Our religion is itself profoundly sad - a religion of universal anguish, and one which, because of its very catholicity, grants full liberty to the individual and asks no better than to be celebrated in each man's own language - so long as he knows anguish and is a painter.
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Anybody, providing he knows how to be amusing, has the right to talk about himself.
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I consider it useless and tedious to represent what exists, because nothing that exists satisfies me. Nature is ugly, and I prefer the monsters of my fancy to what is positively trivial.
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It is necessary to work, if not from inclination, at least from despair. Everything considered, work is less boring than amusing oneself.
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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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Tous les grands poètes deviennent naturellement, fatalement, critiques.
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Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
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Nothing can be done except little by little.
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But a dandy can never be a vulgar man.
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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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For the merchant, even honesty is a financial speculation.
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Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.
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Even in the centuries which appear to us to be the most monstrous and foolish, the immortal appetite for beauty has always found satisfaction.
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Ne pouvant supprimer l'amour, l'Église a voulu au moins le désinfecter, et elle a fait le mariage.
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Homme libre, toujours tu chériras la mer.
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Glorifier le culte des images (ma grande, mon unique, ma primitive passion).
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Là, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté,Luxe, calme et volupté.
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Le Poète est semblable au prince des nuéesQui hante la tempête et se rit de l’archer ;Exilé sur le sol au milieu des huées,Ses ailes de géant l’empêchent de marcher.
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A book is a garden, an orchard, a storehouse, a party, a company by the way, a counselor, a multitude of counselors.
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Any healthy man can go without food for two days - but not without poetry.