More Quotes by Arthur Rimbaud
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn: From time to time my heart is like some oak Whose blood runs golden where a branch is torn.
By being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
Je est un autre.
I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple; Garlands from window to window; Golden chains from star to star ... And I dance.
I believe I am in Hell, therefore I am.
I'm intact, and I don't give a damn.
But, truly, I have wept too much! The Dawns are heartbreaking. Every moon is atrocious and every sun bitter.
Idle youth, enslaved to everything; by being too sensitive I have wasted my life.
In the morning I had a look so lost, a face so dead, that perhaps those whom I met did not see me.
A thousand Dreams within me softly burn