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Progress, this great heresy of decay.
Charles Baudelaire
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Charles Baudelaire
Age: 46 †
Born: 1821
Born: April 9
Died: 1867
Died: August 30
Art Critic
Author
Essayist
Literary Critic
Poet
Translator
Writer
Paris
France
Baudelaire
Charles Pierre Baudelaire-Dufaÿs
Charles Pierre Baudelaire
Orthodox
Decay
Progress
Literature
Great
Heresy
More quotes by Charles Baudelaire
An oasis of horror in a desert of boredom.
Charles Baudelaire
There are but three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the warrior and the poet. To know, to kill and to create. The rest of mankind may be taxed and drudged, they are born for the stable, that is to say, to practise what they call professions.
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Even if it were proven that God didn't exist, Religion would still be Saintly and Divine.
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You walk on corpses, beauty, undismayed.
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There is no such thing as a long piece of work, except one that you dare not start.
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The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.
Charles Baudelaire
Pure draughtsmen are philosophers and dialecticians. Colourists are epic poets.
Charles Baudelaire
The cannon thunders... limbs fly in all directions... one can hear the groans of victims and the howling of those performing the sacrifice... it's Humanity in search of happiness.
Charles Baudelaire
Strangeness is the indispensable condiment of all beauty.
Charles Baudelaire
I am the vampire at my own veins.
Charles Baudelaire
The world only goes round by misunderstanding.
Charles Baudelaire
There is a word, in a verb, something sacred which forbids us from using it recklessly. To handle a language cunningly is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
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The form of a town changes more swiftly alas! Than the heart of a mortal.
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An artist is only an artist on condition that he neglects no aspect of his dual nature. This dualism is the power of being oneself and someone else at one and the same time.
Charles Baudelaire
Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
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Today I felt pass over me A breath of wind from the wings of madness.
Charles Baudelaire
The People adore authority.
Charles Baudelaire
Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.
Charles Baudelaire
With wine, poetry, or virtue as you choose. But get drunk.
Charles Baudelaire
Art is an infinitely precious good, a draught both refreshing and cheering which restores the stomach and the mind to the natural equilibrium of the ideal.
Charles Baudelaire
