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No one's serious at seventeen.

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
Serious
Seventeen

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But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
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Life is the farce which everyone has to perform.
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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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I shed more tears than God could ever have required.
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The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable.
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I am the slave of my baptism. Parents, you have caused my misfortune, and you have caused your own.
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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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The Sun, the hearth of affection and life, pours burning love on the delighted earth.
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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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A thousand Dreams within me softly burn
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. . . be absolute moderne.
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I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there.
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Eternity is the sun mixed with the sea
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Come from forever, and you will go everywhere.
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You will always be a hyena.
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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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What am I doing here?
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Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love!
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What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world.
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I wrote silences nights I recorded the unnameable.
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