Friday, July 6, 2012

Baudelaire or Shakespeare. . .with whom are you most in accord?

On Time...

We are weighed down, every moment, by the conception and the sensation of Time. And there are but two means of escaping and forgetting this nightmare: pleasure and work. Pleasure consumes us. Work strengthens us. Let us choose.  ― Charles Baudelaire

Better three hours too soon than a minute too late. ― William Shakespeare 

It is the hour to be drunken! to escape being the martyred slaves of time, be ceaselessly drunk. On wine, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish.                        ― Charles Baudelaire 

With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come. ― William Shakespeare 
There are moments of existence when time and space are more profound, and the awareness of existence is immensely heightened. ― Charles Baudelaire  

On Dance...

The dance can reveal everything mysterious that is hidden in music, and it has the additional merit of being human and palpable. Dancing is poetry with arms and legs. ― Charles Baudelaire  

I should fear those that dance before me now would one day stamp upon me. ― William Shakespeare (Timon of Athens)

On Art and the Muse...

An artist is an artist only because of his exquisite sense of beauty, a sense which shows him intoxicating pleasures, but which at the same time implies and contains an equally exquisite sense of all deformities and all disproportion.  Charles Baudelaire

The object of Art is to give life a shape. ― William Shakespeare 

The study of beauty is a duel in which the artist cries with terror before being defeated. Charles Baudelaire   

Where art thou, Muse, that thou forget'st so long to speak of that which gives thee all thy might? ― William Shakespeare

On Love...

"Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind".   ― William Shakespeare (A Midsummer Night's Dream)

Let us love gently. Love, from his retreat,
Ambushed and shadowy, bends his fatal bow,
And I too well his ancient arrows know...  ― Charles Baudelaire (Sonnet of Autumn)

On Life...

And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, sermons in stones, and good in everything.                                      ― William Shakespeare

Any man who does not accept the conditions of life sells his soul.                Charles Baudelaire

No comments:

Post a Comment