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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.

Arthur Rimbaud

To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Admire Blood Evil Heart Image Monster Myself
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
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
Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Childhood Discover Genius
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

Himself Journey Poet Poison Travel
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alcohol Bitter Love Poetry Strong
And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! – But the great Faith is Love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Faith God Greatness Love Man Philosophy
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
Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Creativity Memories Nourish Yourself
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
True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Creativity Formula Impulse Memories Nourish True
I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Death Devotion Earth Love Myself
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
I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

God Myself Ocean Tears
I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Dance Gold Myself Rope Star Window

I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.

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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.

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