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The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

Arthur Rimbaud

Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? – Through whose blood am I to wade ?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Blood Break Heart Lying Myself
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
True life is elsewhere.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life One Liner True
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Eternity Forever Nature Sea Sun
My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Compare Myself Wait Wisdom
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
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
Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Forever Yourself
One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Beautiful Bitter Evening Myself Taste
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Thinking Wrong
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Monster Problem Soul Transformation
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
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Criticism Judgement Proper
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
O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Enchantment Flaw Myself Season Soul
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

Body Death Existence Kill Strength Weakness Yourself

The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

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The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.

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