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Arthur Rimbaud Quote - I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.

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

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

Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life Myself Sensitive Wasted Time Youth
True life is elsewhere.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life One Liner True
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
Yet this is the watch by night. Let us all accept new strength, and real tenderness. And at dawn, armed with glowing patience, we will enter the cities of glory.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Acceptance Glory Night Patience Reality Strength Tender
Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Childhood Discover Genius
And I am still alive-what though, my damnation is eternal. A man who deliberately mutilates himself is truly damned, is he not? I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alive Believe Forever Hell Man Myself True
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Eternity Forever Nature Sea Sun
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Himself Pain Poet
The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Kiss Light Rise Sea
Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Creativity Memories Nourish Yourself
Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Best Country Drink Hate Myself Sleep
I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Name Night Poet Record Silence Writing
And from that time on I bathed in the Poem Of the Sea, star-infused and churned into milk, Devouring the green azures; where, entranced in pallid flotsam, A dreaming drowned man sometimes goes down.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Dreams Man Myself Poem Sea Time
What an old maid I’m getting to be. Lacking the courage to be in love with death!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Courage Death Love Myself Old
The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Affection Burn Delight Earth Heart Life Love Sun
I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Misfortune Parents Religion Slave Yourself

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