And over your unconsecrated head you'll hear the howling wolves lament their fate and yours the livelong year.
Charles Baudelairethe Devil's hand directs our every move - / the things we loathed become the things we love
Charles BaudelaireIn this horror of solitude, this need to lose his ego in exterior flesh, which man calls grandly the need for love.
Charles BaudelaireIf photography is allowed to stand in for art in some of its functions it will soon supplant or corrupt it completely thanks to the natural support it will find in the stupidity of the multitude. It must return to its real task, which is to be the servant of the sciences and the arts, but the very humble servant, like printing and shorthand which have neither created nor supplanted literature.
Charles BaudelaireDo you remember the sight we saw, my soul, that soft summer morning round a turning in the path, the disgusting carcass on a bed scattered with stones, its legs in the air like a woman in need burning its wedding poisons like a fountain with its rhythmic sobs, I could hear it clearly flowing with a long murmuring sound, but I touch my body in vain to find the wound. I am the vampire of my own heart, one of the great outcasts condemned to eternal laughter who can no longer smile. Am I dead? I must be dead.
Charles Baudelaire