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Dancing is poetry with arms and legs.
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
Arms
Ballet
Dancer
Merit
Legs
Dancing
Dance
Poetry
More quotes by Charles Baudelaire
What could be more simple and more complex, more obvious and more profound than a portrait.
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What can an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has felt, if only for a second, the infinity of delight?
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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 dandy should aspire to be uninterruptedly sublime. He should live and sleep in front of a mirror.
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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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Like those great sphinxes lounging through eternity in noble attitudes upon the desert sand, they gaze incuriously at nothing, calm and wise.
Charles Baudelaire
The beautiful is always bizarre.
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It is from the womb of art that criticism was born.
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Through the Unknown, we'll find the New
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If a given combination of trees, mountains, water, and houses, say a landscape, is beautiful, it is not so by itself, but because of me, of my favor, of the idea or feeling I attach to it.
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Unable to do away with love, the Church found a way to decontaminate it by creating marriage.
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All the visible universe is nothing but a shop of images and signs.
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Unable to suppress love, the Church wanted at least to disinfect it, and it created marriage.
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As the end of the century approaches, all our culture is like flies at the beginning of winter. Having lost their agility, dreamy and demented, they turn slowly about the window in the first icy mists of morning, . . . [then] they fall down the curtains.
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There is no more steely barb than that of the Infinite.
Charles Baudelaire
Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature?
Charles Baudelaire
This industry [photography], by invading the territories of art, has become art's most mortal enemy.
Charles Baudelaire
Progress, this great heresy of decay.
Charles Baudelaire
The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself and others, as he wishes.
Charles Baudelaire
Everything that is beautiful and noble is the product of reason and calculation.
Charles Baudelaire
