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Arthur Rimbaud Quote - A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.

A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.

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Blood Burn Dreams Heart Myself Soft Time Tree

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life One Liner Performance
What an old maid I’m getting to be. Lacking the courage to be in love with death!
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Courage Death Love Myself Old
I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.
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Alone Himself Key Possession
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
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Appearance Children Fashion Greatness
I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.
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Dance Gold Myself Rope Star Window
Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Celebration Heart Life Myself Open Remember Wine
What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Unknown Wait Yourself
It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Beginning Myself Night Research Silence
I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Action Brain Fate Force Happiness Life Moral Waste Way Weakness
One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Beautiful Bitter Evening Myself Taste
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Eternity Forever Nature Sea Sun
You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Feeling Life Lips Small Yourself
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life Myself Sensitive Wasted Time Youth
I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Expression Myself Silence Understand Voice
The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Animal Consumption Himself Leaves Myself Wolf
I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Night Silence Stand Word World Writing

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