Quote

The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.

Arthur Rimbaud

Change background

T
T
T

Change font

TAGS & TOPICS

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
Unbearable
Nothing
Thing

More quotes by Arthur Rimbaud

Image
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
Faith assuages, guides, restores.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
What am I doing here?
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
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
Image
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
No one's serious at seventeen.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
Morality is the weakness of the mind.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
I wrote silences nights I recorded the unnameable.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
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.
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
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
Image
To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what blood tread?
Arthur Rimbaud
Image
It is wrong to say: I think. One ought to say: I am thought. I is someone else.
Arthur Rimbaud