From his soft fur, golden and brown, Goes out so sweet a scent, one night I might have been embalmed in it By giving him one little pet. He is my household's guardian soul; He judges, he presides, inspires All matters in his royal realm; Might he be fairy? or a god? When my eyes, to this cat I love Drawn as by a magnet's force, Turn tamely back upon that appeal, And when I look within myself, I notice with astonishment The fire of his opal eyes, Clear beacons glowing, living jewels, Taking my measure, steadily.
Charles BaudelaireIn putting off what one has to do, one runs the risk of never being able to do it.
Charles BaudelaireIt is the pleasure of astonishing others, and the proud satisfaction of never being astonished by them.
Charles BaudelaireGo then, a starveling girl With no perfume or pearls, Only your nudity O my beauty!
Charles Baudelaire