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Here comes the time when, vibrating on its stem, every flower fumes like a censer noises and perfumes circle in the evening air.
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
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Noise
Vibrating
Smell
Noises
Air
Perfume
Flower
Stem
Comes
Scent
Nature
Circle
Every
Circles
Fumes
Time
Evening
Perfumes
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Even when she walks one would believe that she dances.
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Amer savoir, celui qu'on tire du voyage! Bitter is the knowledge gained in travelling.
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Woman is natural, that is to say, abominable.
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We are all born marked for evil.
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In art, there is one thing which does not receive sufficient attention. The element which is left to the human will is not nearly so large as people think.
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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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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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Life swarms with innocent monsters.
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One can only forget about time by making use of it.
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Color... thinks by itself, independently of the object it clothes.
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That in all times, mediocrity has dominated, that is indubitable but that it reigns more than ever, that it is becoming absolutely triumphant and inhibiting, this is what is as true as it is distressing.
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The form of a town changes more swiftly alas! Than the heart of a mortal.
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The immense profundity of thought in vulgar locutions, like holes dug by generations of ants.
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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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To handle a language skillfully is to practice a kind of evocative sorcery.
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