La volupte unique et supre” me de l’amour g|”t dans la certitude de faire le mal. The unique, supreme pleasure of love consists in the certainty of doing evil.
CHARLES BAUDELAIREGenius is simply childhood, rediscovered by an act of will.
More Charles Baudelaire Quotes
-
-
Comme l’imagination a cre e le monde, elle le gouverne. Because imagination created the world, it governs it.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
What could be more simple and more complex, more obvious and more profound than a portrait.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
What is love? The need of coming out of one’s self.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
The immense appetite we have for biography comes from a deep-seated sense of equality.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
My soul travels on the smell of perfume like the souls of other men on music.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Multitude, solitude: equal and interchangeable terms for the active and prolific poet.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Forest, I fear you! In my ruined heart your roaring wakens the same agony as in cathedrals when the organ moans and from the depths I hear that I am damned.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
That which is not slightly distorted lacks sensible appeal; from which it follows that irregularity – that is to say, the unexpected, surprise and astonishment, are a essential part and characteristic of beauty.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
A silent mouth is sweet to hear.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Nations, like families, have great men only in spite of themselves.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Everything that gives pleasure has its reason. To scorn the mobs of those who go astray is not the means to bring them around.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Man loves man so much that when he flees the city, it is still to seek the crowd, that is, to rebuild the city in the country.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
Extract the eternal from the ephemeral.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE -
I love Wagner, but the music I prefer is that of a cat hung up by its tail outside a window and trying to stick to the panes of glass with its claws.
CHARLES BAUDELAIRE