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Passion I hate, and spirit does me wrong. Let us love gently.
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
Gently
Passion
Wrong
Hate
Spirit
Doe
Love
More quotes by Charles Baudelaire
How little remains of the man I once was, save the memory of him! But remembering is only a new form of suffering.
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Through the Unknown, we'll find the New
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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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There are some temptations which are so strong that they must be virtues.
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Wine transforms moles into eagles.
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When it meows, one scarcely hears it... It has not the need of words to speak the lengthiest phraseologies.
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Life is a hospital in which every patient is possessed by a desire to change his bed.
Charles Baudelaire
Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature?
Charles Baudelaire
I should like the fields tinged with red, the rivers yellow and the trees painted blue. Nature has no imagination.
Charles Baudelaire
Here comes the time when, vibrating on its stem, every flower fumes like a censer noises and perfumes circle in the evening air.
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All the visible universe is nothing but a shop of images and signs.
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Nature is a temple, where the living Columns sometimes breathe confusing speech Man walks within these groves of symbols, each Of which regards him as a kindred thing.
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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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Genius is nothing more nor less than childhood recaptured at will.
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Evil comes up softly like a flower.
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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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In our corruption we perceive beauties unrevealed to ancient times.
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Dancing can reveal all the mystery that music conceals.
Charles Baudelaire
The will to work must dominate, for art is long and time is brief.
Charles Baudelaire
The immense profundity of thought in vulgar locutions, like holes dug by generations of ants.
Charles Baudelaire
