Her voice makes perfume when she speaks,Her breath is music faint and low.
Je ne suis pas le Styx pour t'embrasser neuf fois.
Mais qu'importe l'éternité de la damnation à qui a trouvé dans une seconde l'infini de la jouissance!
Minutes, foolish mortal, are the base mineralthat you must not let go of without extracting their gold!
De satan ou de dieu, qu'importe! ange ou sirène,qu'importe, si tu rends -- fée aux yeux de velours,rythme, parfum, lueur, ô mon unique reine! --l'univers moins hideux et les instants moins lourds?
The Devil's hand directs our every move - / the things we loathed become the things we love
A multitude of small delights constitute happiness.
El alma es cosa tan impalpable, tan inútil a menudo, y en ocasiones tan molesta, que, al perderla, no sentí más que una emoción algo menor que si se me hubiera extraviado, yendo de paseo, una tarjeta...
I worship you like night's pavilion,O vase of sadness, o great silent one,And love you more since you escape from me,And since you seem, my night's sublimity,To mock me and increase the leagues that l...
Passion sits on the skull Of Humanity, And this infidel enthroned Laughs shamelessly, And gaily blows round bubbles That will fly, As if to join with worlds Deep in the sky. Rising on high, the frail...
Scent, sound or sight, beneficent, malign – Who cares if you’re a blessing or a curse, So long as you bring light,
The child, in love with prints and maps,Holds the whole world in his vast appetite.How large the earth is under the lamplight!But in the eyes of memory, how the world is cramped!
The crowd is his element, as the air is that of birds and water of fishes. His passion and his profession are to become one flesh with the crowd. For the perfect flâneur, for the passionate spectator,...
The old Paris is no more (the form of a city changes faster, alas! than a mortal's heart).
What can an eternity of damnation matter to someone who has felt, if only for a second, the infinity of delight?
You are sitting and smoking; you believe that you are sitting in your pipe, and that is smoking ; you are exhaling in bluish clouds. You feel just fine in this position, and only one thing gives you...
— Who dares, in front of Love, to mention Hell?Curbed forever be that useless dreamer Who first imagined, in his brutish mind, Of sheer futility the fatuous schemer, Honour with Love could ever be com...
Beauty is the sole ambition, the exclusive goal of Taste.
Music fathoms the sky.
Nature is a temple in which living columns sometimes emit confused words. Man approaches it through forests of symbols, which observe him with familiar glances.
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