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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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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
Long
Derangement
Painstaking
Seer
Seers
Vast
Senses
Poet
Makes

More quotes by Arthur Rimbaud

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It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
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What am I doing here?
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. . . be absolute moderne.
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Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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Faith assuages, guides, restores.
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You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life.
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Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
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The northern lights rise like a kiss to the sea
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Misfortune was my god.
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Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea
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The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
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Je est un autre. (I is someone else).
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I invented the colors of the vowels!--A black, E white, I red, O blue, U green--I made rules for the form and movement of each consonant, and, and with instinctive rhythms, I flattered myself that I had created a poetic language accessible, some day, to all the senses.
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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.
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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
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I understand, and not knowing how to express myself without pagan words, I’d rather remain silent
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You will always be a hyena.
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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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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
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