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Arthur Rimbaud Quote - 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.

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.

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Alive Believe Forever Hell Man Myself True

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Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity.
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Creativity Memories Nourish Yourself
My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?
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Compare Myself Wait Wisdom
As I descended into impassable rivers I no longer felt guided by the ferrymen.
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Guide Leadership Myself Ocean River
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
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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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Acceptance Glory Night Patience Reality Strength Tender
What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world.
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Life True World
Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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Life One Liner Performance
Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep in exile?
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Night Sleep Yourself
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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Monster Problem Soul Transformation
Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun.
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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
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Believe Hell Myself
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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Enchantment Flaw Myself Season Soul
I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.
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In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
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Appearance Children Fashion Greatness
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

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