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Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!

Arthur Rimbaud

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Arthur Rimbaud
Age: 37 †
Born: 1854
Born: October 20
Died: 1891
Died: November 10
Arms Trader
Explorer
Poet
World Traveler
Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud
Jean Nicholas Arthur Rimbaud
Properly
Judged
Judge
Critics
Judging
Never
Romanticism

More quotes by Arthur Rimbaud

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It was the voice of mad seas, roaring immense,/ That shattered your infant breast, too soft, too human.
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I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
Arthur Rimbaud
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You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
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But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
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. . . be absolute moderne.
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One evening I sat Beauty on my knees – And I found her bitter – And I reviled her.
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Je est un autre. (I is someone else).
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The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses
Arthur Rimbaud
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Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
Arthur Rimbaud
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Love...no such thing. Whatever it is that binds families and married couples together, that's not love. That's stupidity or selfishness or fear. Love doesn't exist. Self interest exists, attachment based on personal gain exists, complacency exists. But not love. Love has to be reinvented, that’s certain.
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But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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Idle youth, enslaved to everything by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
Arthur Rimbaud
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You will always be a hyena.
Arthur Rimbaud
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Here I am on the shore of Brittany. Let the cities light up in the evening. My day is done. I am leaving Europe. The sea air will burn my lungs. Lost climates will tan me. I will swim, trample the grass, hung, and smoke especially. I will drink alcohol as strong as boiling metal--just as my dear ancestors did around their fires.
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Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
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It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
Arthur Rimbaud
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
Arthur Rimbaud
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No one's serious at seventeen.
Arthur Rimbaud
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O seasons, O castles, What soul is without flaws? All its lore is known to me, Felicity, it enchants us all.
Arthur Rimbaud
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Oh! If only we were naked now, and free to watch our protruding parts align To whisper - both of us - in ecstasy!
Arthur Rimbaud