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The crowd is his element, as the air is that of birds and water of fishes. His passion and his profession are to become one flesh with the crowd. For the perfect flaneur, for the passionate spectator, it is an immense joy to set up house in the heart of the multitude, amid the ebb and flow of movement, in the midst of the fugitive and the infinite. To be away from home and yet to feel oneself everywhere at home; to see the world, to be at t..
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Charles Baudelaire |
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The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before being vanquished.
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beauty
artist
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Charles Baudelaire |
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A friend of mine, the most innocuous dreamer who ever lived, once set a forest on fire to see, as he said, if it would catch as easily as people said. The first ten times the experiment was a failure; but on the eleventh it succeeded all too well.
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persistence
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Charles Baudelaire |
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I sit in the sky like a sphinx misunderstood; My heart of snow is wed to the whiteness of swans; I hate the movement that displaces the rigid lines, With lips untaught neither tears nor laughter do I know.
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the-flowers-of-evil
charles-baudelaire
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Viens, mon beau chat, sur mon coeur amoureux; Retiens les griffes de ta patte, Et laisse-moi plonger dans tes beaux yeux, Meles de metal et d'agate. Lorsque mes doigts caressent a loisir Ta tete et ton dos elastique, Et que ma main s'enivre du plaisir De palper ton corps electrique, Je vois ma femme en esprit. Son regard, Comme le tien, aimable bete, Profond et froid, coupe et fend comme un dard, Et, des pieds jusques a la tete, ..
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poems
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Flesh is willing, but the Soul requires Sisyphean patience for its song, Time, Hippocrates remarked, is short and Art is long.
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time
patience
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Charles Baudelaire |
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and the lamp having at last resigned itself to death. There was nothing now but firelight in the room, And every time a flame uttered a gasp for breath It flushed her amber skin with the blood of its bloom.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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From his soft fur, golden and brown, Goes out so sweet a scent, one night I might have been embalmed in it By giving him one little pet. He is my household's guardian soul; He judges, he presides, inspires All matters in his royal realm; Might he be fairy? or a god? When my eyes, to this cat I love Drawn as by a magnet's force, Turn tamely back upon that appeal, And when I look within myself, I notice with astonishment The fire..
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Nature is a temple, where the living Columns sometimes breathe confusing speech;
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Be Drunken, Always. That is the point; nothing else matters. If you would not feel the horrible burden of Time weigh you down and crush you to the earth, be drunken continually.
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inspirational
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Charles Baudelaire |
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No renuncies jamas a tus suenos, los cuerdos nada saben del sueno admirable de un loco!>>
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madness
poem
crazy
dreams-inspirational
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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With heart at rest I climbed the citadel's Steep height, and saw the city as from a tower, Hospital, brothel, prison, and such hells, Where evil comes up softly like a flower. Thou knowest, O Satan, patron of my pain, Not for vain tears I went up at that hour; But like an old sad faithful lecher, fain To drink delight of that enormous trull Whose hellish beauty makes me young again. Whether thou sleep, with heavy vapors full, Sodden with da..
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poetry
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Charles Baudelaire |
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de satan ou de dieu, qu'importe! ange ou sirene, qu'importe, si tu rends -- fee aux yeux de velours, rythme, parfum, lueur, o mon unique reine! -- l'univers moins hideux et les instants moins lourds?
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Charles Baudelaire |
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I know that pain is the one nobility / upon which Hell itself cannot encroach
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Charles Baudelaire |
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If rape or arson, poison or the knife Has wove no pleasing patterns in the stuff
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poetry
debauchery
decadence
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Acel ce-si strange lacom iubita-n brate pare Un muribund ce-n taina mormantul si-l dezmiarda.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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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.
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lazy
soul
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Que j'aime voir, chere indolente, De ton corps si beau, Comme une etoffe vacillante, Miroiter la peau! Sur ta chevelure profonde Aux acres parfums, Mer odorante et vagabonde Aux flots bleus et bruns, Comme un navire qui s'eveille Au vent du matin, Mon ame reveuse appareille Pour un ciel lointain. Tes yeux ou rien ne se revele De doux ni d'amer, Sont deux bijoux froids ou se melent L'or avec le fer. A te voir marcher en cadence, Belle d'aban..
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poems
snakes
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Charles Baudelaire |
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The devil's finest trick is to persuade you that he does not exist.
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devil
evil
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Charles Baudelaire |
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The child, in love with prints and maps, Holds the whole world in his vast appetite. How large the earth is under the lamplight! But in the eyes of memory, how the world is cramped!
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Go then, a starveling girl With no perfume or pearls,
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Fruit free of any bruises, not yet broken open, / With flesh so firm and smooth, it cried out to be eaten!
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Je ne suis pas le Styx pour t'embrasser neuf fois.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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C'est l'Ennui! --l'oeil charge d'un pleur involontaire, Il reve d'echafauds en fumant son houka. Tu le connais, lecteur, ce monstre delicat, --Hypocrite lecteur,--mon semblable,--mon frere!
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Scent, sound or sight, beneficent, malign - Who cares if you're a blessing or a curse, So long as you bring light,
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Nations, like families, have great men only in spite of themselves.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Ant swarming City City full of dreams
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city
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Charles Baudelaire |
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La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait. Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse, Une femme passa, d'une main fastueuse Soulevant, balancant le feston et l'ourlet; Agile et noble, avec sa jambe de statue. Moi, je buvais, crispe comme un extravagant, Dans son oeil, ciel livide ou germe l'ouragan, La douceur qui fascine et le plaisir qui tue. Un eclair . . . puis la nuit! -- Fugitive beaute Dont le regard m'a fait souda..
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Charles Baudelaire |
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The old Paris is no more (the form of a city changes faster, alas! than a mortal's heart).
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Bisogna sempre essere ubriachi. Tutto qui: e l'unico problema. Per non sentire l'orribile fardello del Tempo che vi spezza la schiena e vi tiene a terra, dovete ubriacarvi senza tregua. Ma di che cosa? Di vino, poesia o di virtu : come vi pare. Ma ubriacatevi. E se talvolta, sui gradini di un palazzo, sull'erba verde di un fosso, nella tetra solitudine della vostra stanza, vi risvegliate perche l'ebbrezza e diminuita o scomparsa, chiedete a..
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Isn't it true that a pleasant house makes winter more poetic, and doesn't winter add to the poetry of a house?
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winter
poetry
intimacy
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Le Poete est semblable au prince des nuees Qui hante la tempete et se rit de l'archer; Exile sur le sol au milieu des huees, Ses ailes de geant l'empechent de marcher.
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poets
literature
poetry
mundane
mundane-reality
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Doubt, or the absence of faith and naivete, is a vice peculiar to this age, for no one is obedient nowadays; and naivete, which means the dominance of temperament in the manner, is a gift from God, possessed by very few.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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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.
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sad
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Lost in this awful world, rubbing shoulders with the multitudes, I am like a tired man whose eye can't see behind him, in the deep years, anything but disillusion and bitterness, and in front of him, nothing but a storm which contains nothing new, neither learning nor pain.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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L'etude du beau est un duel ou l'artiste crie de frayeur avant d'etre vaincu.
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philosophy
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Charles Baudelaire |
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Do not look for my heart any more; the beasts have eaten it.
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poetry
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Charles Baudelaire |
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But how you'd please me, night! without those stars Whose light speaks in a language I have known! Since I seek for the black, the blank, the bare!
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Charles Baudelaire |
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God is a scandal, - a profitable scandal.
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Charles Baudelaire |
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La, tout n'est qu'ordre et beaute, Luxe, calme et volupte. (L'Invitation au Voyage)
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Charles Baudelaire |
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believe I already wrote in my notes that love was very similar to torture or surgery. But this idea can be developed in a most bitter way. Even if two lovers are very much in love and full of mutual desires, one of the two will always be calmer or less possessed than the other. The former is the operator or the executioner; the latter is the subject, the victim. Do you hear these sighs, preludes to a tragedy of dishonor, these groans, these..
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Charles Baudelaire |
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The room was filled with deep, raucous sighs, sudden sobs, silent floods of tears. The horrified musician stopped,and going up to the man whose bliss was expressing itself most noisily, he asked him if he was in great pain and what would help to relieve it. But the sick man, his eyes gleaming ecstatically, looked at him with unspeakable contempt. Fancy wanting to save a man sick with too much life, sick with joy!
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Charles Baudelaire |
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La Terre est un gateau plein de douceur.
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Charles Baudelaire |