I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
ARTHUR RIMBAUDThe northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea.
More Arthur Rimbaud Quotes
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Morality is the weakness of the mind.
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Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea.
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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.
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.
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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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True life is elsewhere.
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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 -
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.
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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn’t he?
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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.
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But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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Life is the farce we are all forced to endure.
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What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
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Now I am an outcast. I loathe my country. The best thing for me is a drunken sleep on the beach.
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I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD -
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
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Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? – Through whose blood am I to wade ?
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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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I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.
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The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
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You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
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The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD