The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
ARTHUR RIMBAUDI could never throw Love out of the window.
More Arthur Rimbaud Quotes
-
-
Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
True life is elsewhere.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn’t he?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
The poet makes himself a voyant through a long, immense reasoned deranging of all his senses. All the forms of love, of suffering, of madness; he tries to find himself, he exhausts in himself all the poisons, to keep only their quintessences.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
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 -
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Faith assuages, guides, restores.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
I could never throw Love out of the window.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Oh! If only we were naked now, and free to watch our protruding parts align; To whisper – both of us – in ecstasy!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep in exile?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
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.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD