Dieu est le seul être qui, pour régner, n'ait même pas besoin d'exister. Ce qui est créé par l’esprit est plus vivant que la matière. - Charles Baudelaire

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Dieu est le seul être qui, pour régner, n'ait même pas besoin d'exister. Ce qui est créé par l’esprit est plus vivant que la matière.

French
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About Charles Baudelaire

Charles Baudelaire (9 April 1821 – 31 August 1867) was a French poet, critic and translator.

Biography information from Wikiquote

Also Known As

Alternative Names: Baudelaire Charles Pierre Baudelaire-Dufaÿs Charles Pierre Baudelaire Charles-Pierre Baudelaire
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Shorter versions of this quote

Dieu est le seul être qui, pour règner, n'a même pas besoin d'exister.

Additional quotes by Charles Baudelaire

"believe I already wrote in my notes that love was very similar to torture or surgery. But this idea can be developed in a most bitter way. Even if two lovers are very much in love and full of mutual desires, one of the two will always be calmer or less possessed than the other. The former is the operator or the executioner; the latter is the subject, the victim. Do you hear these sighs, preludes to a tragedy of dishonor, these groans, these cries, these gasps? Who hasn't uttered them, who has resisted extorting them? And what do you find to be the worst part of the torment applied by the careful torturers? The revolting sleepwalker eyes, the limbs with muscles that jump or stiffen as if they were galvanized; certainly, not even the most furious effects of intoxication, delirium or opium could provide such horrible and curious examples. And the human face, which Ovid believed to be made to reflect the stars, is now wearing an expression of crazy ferocity or slackening in some sort of death. Surely, I would think it a sacrilege if I used the word "ecstasy" for such decomposition."

The Beautiful is always strange.

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The man who is unable to people his solitude is equally unable to be alone in a bustling crowd. The poet enjoys the incomparable privilege of being able to be himself or some one else, as he chooses. [...] The solitary and thoughtful stroller finds a singular intoxication in this universal communion. [...] What men call love is a very small, restricted, feeble thing compared with this ineffable orgy, this divine prostitution of the soul giving itself entire...to the unexpected as it comes along, the stranger as he passes.

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