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 RIMBAUDI may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
More Arthur Rimbaud Quotes
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Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
I wrote silences; nights; I recorded the unnameable.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don’t know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
And again: No more gods! no more gods! Man is King, Man is God! – But the great Faith is Love!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
What an old maid I’m getting to be. Lacking the courage to be in love with death!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
True life is elsewhere.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
What is my nothingness to the stupor that awaits you?
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