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Arthur Rimbaud Quote - My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?

My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

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
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Life Myself Sensitive Wasted Time Youth
The wolf howled under the leaves And spit out the prettiest feathers Of his meal of fowl: Like him I consume myself.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Animal Consumption Himself Leaves Myself Wolf
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
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.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Action Brain Fate Force Happiness Life Moral Waste Way Weakness
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Bitter Cry Heart Broken Moon Myself Sun True
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Criticism Judgement Proper
I am alone in possessing a key to this barbarous sideshow.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Alone Himself Key Possession
I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Myself Night Silence Stand Word World Writing
I could never throw Love out of the window.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Love Myself Window
It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense, That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Body Break Human Mad Soft Voice
Whose hearts must I break? What lies must I maintain? – Through whose blood am I to wade ?
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Blood Break Heart Lying Myself
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Burn Dreams Inspirational Myself One Liner Soft
I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Misfortune Parents Religion Slave Yourself
I may die of earthly love, or of devotion.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Death Devotion Earth Love Myself
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
ARTHUR RIMBAUD

Appearance Children Fashion Greatness

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