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To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
Charles Baudelaire
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Charles Baudelaire
Age: 46 †
Born: 1821
Born: April 9
Died: 1867
Died: August 30
Art Critic
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Paris
France
Baudelaire
Charles Pierre Baudelaire-Dufaÿs
Charles Pierre Baudelaire
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March
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Today I felt pass over me A breath of wind from the wings of madness.
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It would be difficult for me not to conclude that the most perfect type of masculine beauty is Satan, as portrayed by Milton.
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Inspiration comes of working every day.
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The unique and supreme voluptuousness of love lies in the certainty of committing evil. And men and women know from birth that in evil is found all sensual delight.
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When a singer puts his hand on his heart, it means usually, I will always love you!
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The act of love strongly resembles torture or surgery.
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Wine transforms moles into eagles.
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I have cultivated my hysteria with delight and terror. Now I suffer continually from vertigo, and today, 23rd of January, 1862, I have received a singular warning, I have felt the wind of the wing of madness pass over me.
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So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, be endlessly drunk.
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Everything, alas, is an abyss, actions, desires, dreams, words!
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The form of a town changes more swiftly alas! Than the heart of a mortal.
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We are all born marked for evil.
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You walk on corpses, beauty, undismayed.
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It is by universal misunderstanding that all agree. For if, by ill luck, people understood each other, they would never agree.
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Every idea is endowed of itself with immortal life, like a human being. All created form, even that which is created by man, is immortal. For form is independent of matter: molecules do not constitute form.
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