What is exhilarating in bad taste is the aristocratic pleasure of giving offense. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
I set out to discover the why of it, and to transform my pleasure into knowledge. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
It is the pleasure of astonishing others, and the proud satisfaction of never being astonished by them. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
There is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
Love is a taste for prostitution. In fact, there is no noble pleasure that cannot be reduced to Prostitution. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
Poetry has no goal other than itself; it can have no other, and no poem will be so great, so noble, so… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
It is easy to understand why the rabble dislike cats. A cat is beautiful; it suggests ideas of luxury, cleanliness, voluptuous pleasures. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
La volupte unique et supre" me de l'amour g|"t dans la certitude de faire le mal. The unique, supreme pleasure of love… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
There are women who inspire you with the desire to conquer them and to take your pleasure of them; but this one… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
The pleasure we derive from the representation of the present is due, not only to the beauty it can be clothed in,… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
The taste for pleasure attaches us to the present. The concern with our salvation leaves us hanging on the future. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
La, tout n’est qu’ordre et beauté Luxe, calme et volupté There, there is nothing else but grace and measure, Richness, quietness, and… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
Everything that gives pleasure has its reason. To scorn the mobs of those who go astray is not the means to bring… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
For the perfect idler, for the passionate observer it becomes an immense source of enjoyment to establish his dwelling in the throng,… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
The being who, for most men, is the source of the most lively, and even, be it said, to the shame of… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
My concern today is with the painting of manners of the present. The past is interesting not only by reason of the… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share Image
Who would dare assign to art the sterile function of imitating nature? — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
“The greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist”—Charles Baudelaire “The second greatest trick the Devil ever pulled was… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
“This life is a hospital in which each patient is possessed by the desire to change beds. One wants to suffer in front of… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
There is no such thing as a long piece of work, except one that you dare not start. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
Our religion is itself profoundly sad - a religion of universal anguish, and one which, because of its very catholicity, grants full liberty to… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
But the true voyagers are only those who leave Just to be leaving; hearts light, like balloons, They never turn aside from their fatality… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
Amer savoir, celui qu'on tire du voyage! Bitter is the knowledge gained in travelling. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
“I can barely conceive a type of beauty in which there is no melancholy.” — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
The vices of man, as full of horror as one might suppose them to be, contain the proof (if in nothing else but their… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
Multitude, solitude: equal and interchangeable terms for the active and prolific poet. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
Any healthy man can go without food for two days - but not without poetry. — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
Man loves man so much that when he flees the city, it is still to seek the crowd, that is, to rebuild the city… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
“—But why is she weeping? She, the perfect beauty, Who could put at her feet the conquered human race, What secret malady gnaws at… — Charles Baudelaire Copy Share
