Yet this is the watch by night. Let us all accept new strength, and real tenderness. And at dawn, armed with glowing… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still. — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo. — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
I dreamed of Crusades, voyages of discovery that nobody had heard of, republics without histories, religious wars stamped out, revolutions in morals,… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
“And the poet says that by starlight You come seeking, in the night, the flowers that you picked And that he has… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
Stronger than alcohol, vaster than poetry, Ferment the freckled red bitterness of love! — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
“My turn now. The story of one of my insanities. For a long time I boasted that I was master of all possible landscapes--… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
“Delivered to oblivion...growing and flowering with incense and weeds to the sullen whine of nasty flies... I loved deserts, burnt out orchards, faded boutiques...I… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
“I On the calm black water where the stars are sleeping White Ophelia floats like a great lily; Floats very slowly, lying in her… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
Love...no such thing. Whatever it is that binds families and married couples together, that's not love. That's stupidity or selfishness or fear. Love doesn't… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
Weakness or strength: you exist, that is strength. You don't know where you are going or why you are going, go in everywhere, answer… — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
Oh! If only we were naked now, and free to watch our protruding parts align; To whisper - both of us - in ecstasy! — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter. — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
What an old maid I'm getting to be. lacking the courage to be in love with death! — Arthur Rimbaud Copy Share Image
