I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am.
In the great glasshouses streaming with condensation, the children in mourning-dress beheld marvels.
No one's serious at seventeen,When lindens line the promenades
Only divine love bestows the keys of knowledge.
On the blue summer evenings, I will go along the paths,And walk over the short grass, as I am pricked by the wheat:Daydreaming I will feel the coolness on my feet.I will let the wind bathe my bare hea...
I’m the Saint praying on a balcony - like peaceful beasts grazing along the Sea of Palestine. I’m the scholar in a plain reading chair. Branches and rain beat the library windows. I’m the pedestrian o...
Never admit defeat!
Genius is the recovery of childhood at will.
My wisdom is as spurned as chaos. What is my nothingness, compared to the amazement that awaits you?
Evening prayerI spend my life sitting, like an angel in a barber's chair,Holding a beer mug with deep-cut designs,My neck and gut both bent, while in the airA weightless veil of pipe smoke hangs.Like...
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn:From time to time my heart is like some oakWhose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
But the problem is to make the soul into a monster
I saw that all beings are fated to happiness: action is not life, but a way of wasting some force, an enervation. Morality is the weakness of the brain.
The Poet makes himself a seer through a long, vast and painstaking derangement of all the senses
Morality is the weakness of the mind.
Faith assuages guides restores.
The same bourgeois magic everywhere the mail train sets you down.
Far from birds, from flocks and village girls, What did I drink, on my knees in the heather Surrounded by a sweet wood of hazel trees, In the warm and green mist of the afternoon? What could I drink f...
I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; Garlands from window to window; Golden chains from star to star ... And I dance.
IOn the calm black water where the stars are sleepingWhite Ophelia floats like a great lily;Floats very slowly, lying in her long veils...- In the far-off woods you can hear them sound the mort.For mo...