欧宝娱乐

“I is another. If the brass wakes the trumpet, it鈥檚 not its fault. That鈥檚 obvious to me: I witness the unfolding of my own thought: I watch it, I hear it: I make a stroke with the bow: the symphony begins in the depths, or springs with a bound onto the stage.

If the old imbeciles hadn鈥檛 discovered only the false significance of Self, we wouldn鈥檛 have to now sweep away those millions of skeletons which have been piling up the products of their one-eyed intellect since time immemorial, and claiming themselves to be their authors!”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“Come back, come back, dear friend, only friend, come back. I promise to be good.
If I was short with you, I was either kidding or just being stubborn; I regret all this more than I can express. Come back and all is forgotten. It is unbearable to think you took my joke seriously. I have been crying for two days straight. Come back. Be brave, dear friend. All is not lost. You only need to come back. We will live here once again, bravely, patiently. I鈥檓 begging you. You know it is for your own good. Come back, all of your things are here. I hope you now know that our last conversation wasn鈥檛 real. That awful moment. But you, when I waved to you to get off the boat, why didn鈥檛 you come? To have lived together for two years and to have come to that! What will you do? If you don鈥檛 want to come back here, would you want me to come to you?

Yes, I was wrong.

Tell me you haven鈥檛 forgotten me.

You couldn鈥檛.

I always have you with me.

Listen, tell me: should we not live together anymore?
Be brave. Write immediately.
I can鈥檛 stay here much longer.
Listen to your heart.
Now, tell me if I should come join you.
My life is yours.”
― Arthur Rimbaud, I Promise to Be Good: The Letters of Arthur Rimbaud

“It has been found again.
What? 鈥�
Eternity.
It is the sea mingled with the sun.”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“No one's serious at seventeen,
When lindens line the promenades”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“Come back, come back, dear friend, only friend, come back. I promise to be good.”
― Arthur Rimbaud, I Promise to Be Good: The Letters of Arthur Rimbaud

“We must change life,' the poet [Rimbaud] had written, and so the Situationists set out to transform everyday life in the modern world through a comprehensive program that included above all else the construction of 'situations' -- defined in 1958 as moments of life 'concretely and deliberately constructed by the collective organization of a unitary ambiance and a play of events' -- but that also necessary entailed the supersession of philosophy, the realization of art, the abolition of politics, and the fall of the 'spectacle-commodity economy.”
― Tom McDonough, The Situationists and the City: A Reader

“They find me odd, and whisper behind hands鈥nd my brutal desires sink hooks into their lips鈥�”
― Arthur Rimbaud, Collected Poems

“J'ai seul la clef de cette parade sauvage.”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“Okay, there were loads of French poets, but Arthur Rimbaud was fucking out there!”
― Karl Wiggins, Wrong Planet - Searching for your Tribe

“隆A la mierda! 隆El que quiera leer a Rimbaud que aprenda franc茅s!”
― Budd Schulberg

“Trip on this! Haile Selassie, who Rastafari regard as God, was possibly greatly influenced by a French poet who although he gave up writing at the age of 20 (which at first glance appears like a huge waste) must certainly have still held an esoteric, otherworldly mind. It can鈥檛 have just deserted him, can it? Rimbaud had a bewitching and at times ghoulish psyche which managed to explode out of long-established poetic forms while still in his teens. He did it with more rhythm and beauty than almost anyone you care to name. It鈥檚 extremely likely that ten years later this man had incredible influence on the child who Rastafari were to later think of as God.

An intriguing thought.”
― Karl Wiggins

“There is literally no way to have an opinion, in public, in 2018 AD, and not be involved in the hierarchy of global evil.”
― Jarett Kobek, Do Every Thing Wrong!: XXXTentacion Against the World

“La mano per scrivere vale la mano per arare.”
― Rimbaud

“La joventut sempre 茅s est煤pida, fins i tot quan el qui 茅s jove s'anomena Rimbaud 鈥攅l qual, en efecte, era est煤pid, i genial (no es tracta de condicions incompatibles).”
― Joan Fuster

“I've seen archipelagos of stars; islands whose feverish skies are spread above the traveller - are these the boundless nights in which you sleep?”
― Rimbaud, Arthur

“It is wrong to say: I think. One should say: I am thought.”
― Arthur Rimbaud, Illuminations

“The first study for a man who wants to be a poet is the knowledge of himself, entire. He searches his soul, he inspects it, he tests it, he learns it. As soon as he knows it, he cultivates it.”
― Arthur Rimbaud, Illuminations

“螝伪喂 蟽魏苇蠁蟿慰渭伪喂 蟺维位喂 蟺蠅蟼 蟿伪尉委未喂 蔚委谓伪喂 慰喂 维谓胃蟻蠅蟺慰喂 渭伪 蟺喂慰 蟺慰位蠉 蟿伪尉委未喂 蔚委谓伪喂 蟿慰 蟺维胃慰蟼 谓伪 渭慰喂蟻伪蟽蟿蔚委蟼 蟿慰 未蟻蠈渭慰”
― Arthur Rimbaud

“Wie eens zijn zangen dichtte in het diepst der kwellingen, god en schoonheid lasterde, zich tegen recht en hoop wapende, die wil nu trouwen met een vrouw, 'die er goed bij zit'. Die eens was de magi毛r, de ziener, de onhandelbare boef achter wie de deuren van het bagno definitief gesloten worden, de mensenkoning op een aarde zonder goden, die draagt nu doorlopend acht kilo goud in een gordel zwaar om zijn buik, jammerend dat hij er dysenterie van krijgt. Is dat de mytische held die men ten voorbeel stelt aan zovele jonge mensen, die wel niet 'de wereld uitkotsen' maar toch van schaamte zouden sterven alleen maar bij de gedachte aan een dergelijke gordel?”
― Albert Camus, The Rebel

“Ce qu'il y a de brutal et d'exemplaire chez Rimbaud, c'est qu'il rend la vie inutile. Inutilisable. Toute lecture, toute ambition intellectuelle, hors de question. Puisqu'un Rimbaud est possible, tout est vain. Il arrive et il parle. Et sa parole est un chant. Et ce chant implique tous les chants possibles. Et les annule. L'exp茅rience, la dur茅e, l'homme sont ici mis en d茅route. Il renverse toutes les lois, en imposant la loi qui est et reste le haut fait d'锚tre ce que l'on est. Il ne vit que par raccroc, il respire parce qu'il faut bien. Et peu importe alors ce qu'il va faire de cette vie d茅risoire. Sa poche d'ignorance, d'inspiration est pr茅serv茅e. Il rend 脿 ce qu'on nomme la vie le supr锚me hommage, qui consiste 脿 op茅rer comme si l'on n'avait que faire de ce qu'elle laisse esp茅rer. H茅ritier milliardaire qui vivrait comme si ce tr茅sor ne lui 茅tait de rien. Superbe m茅pris. Il rendra la cassette pleine, sans m锚me s'锚tre souci茅 d'en v茅rifier les richesses. Antiphilosophe extr锚me qui respecte aussi peu la mort que la vie. Il avance oreilles bouch茅es, l猫vres closes, muet jusqu'au rire; oui, proprement ang茅lique. Br没lant toutes ses cartes sans calcul, sans pr茅m茅ditation, sans plaisir. Il est ce qu'il est et fait ce qu'il fait. Le secret de Rimbaud, c'est l'茅vidence. Un rien de pr茅sence d茅plac茅e et c'en 茅tait fait. Il r茅ussissait ou il 茅chouait. Alors que son destin n'est pas qualifiable. Est le pr茅sent m锚me.”
― Georges Perros, Papiers coll茅s

“My health was menaced. Terror came. For days on end I fell asleep and, when I woke, the dark dreams continued. I was ripe for death. My debility led me along a route of dangers, to the world鈥檚 edge, to Cimmeria, the country of black fog and whirlwinds. I was forced to travel, to ward off the apparitions assembled in my brain." - Rimbaud, Une Saison en enfer

He was a great walker. Oh! An astonishing walker, his coat open, a little fez on his head in spite of the sun. Righas, on Rimbaud in Ethiopia 鈥� along horrible tracks like those presumed to exist on the moon. Rimbaud, writing home”
― Bruce Chatwin

“(...)
Chez Rimbaud la diction pr茅c猫de d鈥檜n adieu la contradiction.
Sa d茅couverte, sa date incendiaire, c鈥檈st la rapidit茅.
L鈥檈mpressement de sa parole, son 茅tendue 茅pousent et couvrent une surface que le verbe jusqu鈥櫭� lui n鈥檃vait jamais atteinte ni occup茅e. En po茅sie on n鈥檋abite que le lieu que l鈥檕n quitte, on ne cr茅e que l鈥檕euvre dont on se d茅tache, on n鈥檕btient la dur茅e qu鈥檈n d茅truisant le temps. Mais tout ce qu鈥檕n obtient par rupture, d茅tachement et n茅gation, on ne l鈥檕btient que pour autrui. La prison se referme aussit么t sur l鈥櫭﹙ad茅. Le donneur de libert茅 n鈥檈st libre que dans les autres. Le po猫te ne jouit que de la libert茅 des autres.
脌 l鈥檌nt茅rieur d鈥檜n po猫me de Rimbaud, chaque strophe, chaque verset, chaque phrase vit d鈥檜ne vie po茅tique autonome. Dans le po猫me G茅nie, il s鈥檈st d茅crit comme dans nul autre po猫me. C鈥檈st en nous donnant cong茅, en effet, qu鈥檌l conclut. Comme Nietzsche, comme Lautr茅amont, apr猫s avoir tout exig茅 de nous, il nous demande de le 芦 renvoyer 禄. Derni猫re et essentielle exigence. Lui qui ne s鈥檈st satisfait de rien, comment pourrions-nous nous satisfaire de lui ? Sa marche ne conna卯t qu鈥檜n terme : la mort, qui n鈥檈st une grande affaire que de ce c么t茅-ci. Elle le recueillera apr猫s des souffrances physiques aussi incroyables que les illuminations de son adolescence. Mais sa rude m猫re ne l鈥檃vait-elle pas mis au monde dans un berceau outrecuidant entour茅 de vigiles semblables 脿 des vip茅reaux avides de chaleur. Ils s鈥櫭﹖aient si bien saisis de lui qu鈥檌ls l鈥檃ccompagn猫rent jusqu鈥櫭� la fin, ne le l芒chant que sur le sol de son tombeau.”
― Ren茅 Char

“The extant application for a reader鈥檚 ticket at the British Museum signed by Arthur Rimbaud on March 25, 1873, attesting that he has read the regulations for the Reading Room and that he is not under twenty-one years of age 鈥� when in truth he was still only eighteen.”
― David Markson, The Last Novel