Romanticism has never been properly judged. Who was there to judge it? The critics!.

Your memory and your senses will be nourishment for your creativity..

The only unbearable thing is that nothing is unbearable..

Come from forever, and you will go everywhere..

I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still..

Eternity. It is the sea mingled with the sun..

I went out under the sky, Muse! and I was your vassal..

Life is the farce which everyone has to perform..

Genius is the recovery of childhood at will..

True alchemy lies in this formula: ‘Your memory and your senses are but the nourishment of your creative impulse’..

Je est un autre. (I is someone else)..

I could never throw Love out of the window..

Unhappiness was my god..

...these poets here, you see, they are not of this world:let them live their strange life; let them be cold and hungry, let them run, love and sing: ….

To whom shall I hire myself out? What beast should I adore? What holy image is attacked? What hearts shall I break? What lies shall I uphold? In what….

...as for me, I am intact; and I don't care..

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 bra….

It began as research. I wrote of silences, of nights, I scribbled the indescribable. I tied down the vertigo..

What a life! True life is elsewhere. We are not in the world..

You feel on your lips a kiss Fluttering, a tiny scrap of life..

I may die of earthly love, or of devotion..