Charles Baudelaire Quotes
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He who doesn't accept the conditions of life sells his soul.
Imagination is the queen of truth, and possibility is one of the regions of truth. She is positively akin to infinity.
Nothing can be done except little by little.
I have cultivated my hysteria with joy and terror.
For the merchant, even honesty is a financial speculation.
Poetry and progress are like two ambitious men who hate one another with an instinctive hatred, and when they meet upon the same road, one of them has to give place.
It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
Ant swarming CityCity full of dreamsWhere in broad day the specter tugs your sleeve
There are moments of existence when time and space are more profound, and the awareness of existence is immensely heightened.
What is irritating about love is that it is a crime that requires an accomplice.
As a remedy against all ills - poverty sickness and melanchol - only one thing is absolutely necessary: a liking for work.
To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
How many years of fatigue and punishment it takes to learn the simple truth that work that disagreeable thing is the only way of not suffering in life or at all events of suffering less.
I am a cemetery by the moon unblessed.
Strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.
I should like the fields tinged with red, the rivers yellow and the trees painted blue. Nature has no imagination.
I set out to discover the why of it, and to transform my pleasure into knowledge.
There exist only three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the soldier, the poet. To know, to kill, to create.
What strange phenomena we find in a great city, all we need do is stroll about with our eyes open. Life swarms with innocent monsters.
It is the hour to be drunken! to escape being the martyred slaves of time, be ceaselessly drunk. On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.
Abolishers of the soul (materialists) are necessarily abolishers of hell, they, certainly, are interested. At all events, they are people who fear to live again--lazy people.
The immense appetite we have for biography comes from a deep-seated sense of equality.
Common sense tells us that the things of the earth exist only a little, and that true reality is only in dreams.
Music fathoms the sky.
The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before being vanquished.
Everything considered work is less boring than amusing oneself.
Even in the centuries which appear to us to be the most monstrous and foolish, the immortal appetite for beauty has always found satisfaction.
The mainspring of genius is curiosity.
The saddest thing is that every love has an unhappy ending, and all the more unhappy in proportion to how divinely it began, with what wings it first took flight.
And, drunk with my own madness, I shouted at him furiously, "Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!
The beautiful is always bizarre.
Nature can counsel nothing but crime.
The Beautiful is always strange.
Time is an avid gambler who has no need to cheat to win every time.
I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.
Genius is nothing more nor less than childhood recaptured at will.
Whether you come from heaven or hell, what does it matter, O Beauty!
On peut chercher dans Dieu le complice et l'ami qui manquent toujours. Dieu est l'éternel confident dans cette tragédie dont chacun est le héros.
Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by the desire of changing his bed. One would prefer to suffer near the fire and another is certain he would get well if he were by the window.
The man who says his prayers in the evening is a captain posting his sentries. After that he can sleep.
Flesh is willing, but the Soul requiresSisyphean patience for its song, Time, Hippocrates remarked, is shortand Art is long.
Inspiration comes of working every day.
Even if it were proven that God didn't exist, Religion would still be Saintly and Divine.
Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.
There is no such thing as a long piece of work except one that you dare not start.
Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
Nothing is as tedious as the limping days, When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways, And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom, Assumes control of fate’s immortal loom
It is at despair at not being able to be noble and beautiful by natural means that we have made up our faces so strangely.
Any healthy man can go without food for two days - but not without poetry.
To say the word Romanticism is to say modern art - that is, intimacy, spirituality, color, aspiration towards the infinite, expressed by every means available to the arts.