I could never throw Love out of the window.
ARTHUR RIMBAUDWeakness 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.
More Arthur Rimbaud Quotes
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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
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It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense, That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.
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Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.
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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.
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What an old maid I’m getting to be. Lacking the courage to be in love with death!
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True life is elsewhere.
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It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo.
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Morality is the weakness of the mind.
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But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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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 -
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 -
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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You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
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I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
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Oh! If only we were naked now, and free to watch our protruding parts align; To whisper – both of us – in ecstasy!
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Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
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Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
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I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
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O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
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But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
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Faith assuages, guides, restores.
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Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea.
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I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent.
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Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD