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An oasis of horror in a desert of boredom.

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
Oasis
Boredom
Desert
Horror

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What men call love is a very small, restricted, feeble thing compared with this ineffable orgy, this divine prostitution of the soul giving itself entire, all its poetry and all its charity, to the unexpected as it comes along, to the stranger as he passes.
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To glorify the cult of images (my great, my only, my earliest passion).
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For me, Romanticism is the most recent and the most current expression of beauty.
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The dandy should aspire to be uninterruptedly sublime. He should live and sleep in front of a mirror.
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The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before he is defeated.
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The more a man cultivates the arts the less he fornicates. A more and more apparent cleavage occurs between the spirit and the brute.
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I can barely conceive of a type of beauty in which there is no Melancholy.
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I am the wound and the knife! I am the slap and the cheek! I am the limbs and the rack, And the victim and the executioner! I am the vampire of my own heart.
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The Devil pulls the strings which make us dance We find delight in the most loathsome things Some furtherance of Hell each new day brings, And yet we feel no horror in that rank advance.
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To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.
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It is one of the prodigious privileges of art that the horrific, artistically expressed, becomes beauty, and that sorrow, given rhythm and cadence, fills the spirit with a calm joy.
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Through the Unknown, we'll find the New
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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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As a remedy against all ills - poverty, sickness, and melancholy - only one thing is absolutely necessary: a liking for work
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Always be drunk ... Get drunk militantly. Just get drunk.
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I should like the fields tinged with red, the rivers yellow and the trees painted blue. Nature has no imagination.
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Quand me me Dieu n'existerait pas, la religion serait encore sainte et divineDieu est le seul e tre qui, pour re gner, n'ait me me pas besoin d'exister. Even if God did not exist, religion would still be holyand divine.God isthe only being who, inorder toreign, need not even exist.
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It would perhaps be nice to be alternately the victim and the executioner.
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We love women in proportion to their degree of strangeness to us.
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