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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.
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
Weakness
Kill
Answer
Exist
Strength
Answers
Corpse
Everyone
Corpses
Going
Everywhere
More quotes by Arthur Rimbaud
I wrote silences nights I recorded the unnameable.
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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!
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Je est un autre. (I is someone else).
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What am I doing here?
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But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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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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Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
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The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
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Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
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I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.
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A man who wants to mutilate himself is certainly damned, isn't he?
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Yet this is the watch by night. Let us all accept new strength, and real tenderness. And at dawn, armed with glowing patience, we will enter the cities of glory.
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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
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Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
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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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Idle youth, enslaved to everything by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
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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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No one's serious at seventeen.
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