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The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
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
Heart
Love
Hearth
Life
Pours
Delighted
Burning
Affection
Sun
Earth
More quotes by Arthur Rimbaud
I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
Arthur Rimbaud
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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No one's serious at seventeen.
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I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal.
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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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Once, if I remember well, my life was a feast where all hearts opened and all wines flowed.
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-But I've just noticed that my mind is asleep.
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In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
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The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses
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. . . be absolute moderne.
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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea
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Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer everyone. No one will kill you, any more than if you were a corpse.
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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.
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Faith assuages, guides, restores.
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O witches, O misery, O hate, to you has my treasure been entrusted! I contrived to purge my mind of all human hope. On all joy, to strangle it, I pounced with the strength of a wild beast. I called to the plagues to smother me in blood, in sand, misfortune was my God.
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Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
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Hay que ser absolutamente Moderno
Arthur Rimbaud