Whether you come from heaven or hell, what does it matter, O Beauty!
There are as many kinds of beauty as there are habitual ways of seeking happiness.
Our religion is itself profoundly sad - a religion of universal anguish, and one which, because of its very catholicity, grants full liberty to the individual and asks no better than to be celebrated...
The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries out in terror before being vanquished.
Il me semble que je serais toujours bien la ou je ne suis pas.It seems to me that I will always be happy in the place where I am not.
There are moments of existence when time and space are more profound, and the awareness of existence is immensely heightened.
Il était tard; ainsi qu'une médaille neuveLa pleine lune s'étalait,Et la solennité de la nuit, comme un fleuveSur Paris dormant ruisselait.
I love to watch the fine mist of the night come on, The windows and the stars illumined, one by one, The rivers of dark smoke pour upward lazily, And the moon rise and turn them silver. I shall see Th...
Le Goût du néantMorne esprit, autrefois amoureux de la lutte, L’Espoir, dont l’épéron attisait ton ardeur, Ne veut plus t’enfourcher! Couche-toi sans pudeur, Vieux cheval dont le pied à chaque obstacl...
Have you sunk into so deep a stupor that you are happy only in your unhappiness?-
I set out to discover the why of it, and to transform my pleasure into knowledge.
To be wicked is never excusable, but there is some merit in knowing that you are; the most irreparable of vices is to do evil from stupidity.
Folly, error, sin, avariceOccupy our minds and labor our bodies,And we feed our pleasant remorseAs beggars nourish their vermin.
Abolishers of the soul (materialists) are necessarily abolishers of hell, they, certainly, are interested. At all events, they are people who fear to live again--lazy people.
The Devil pulls the strings which make us dance;We find delight in the most loathsome things;
El Demonio se agita sin cesar a mi lado,flota a mi alrededor como un aire impalpable;lo respiro y siento que quema mis pulmones,llenándolos de un ansia sempiterna y culpable.Sabiendo lo mucho que amo...
I am a cemetery by the moon unblessed.
There exist only three beings worthy of respect: the priest, the soldier, the poet. To know, to kill, to create.
One man illumines you with his other sets in you his sorrow.
Ant swarming CityCity full of dreamsWhere in broad day the specter tugs your sleeve
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