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"The saddest thing is that every love has an unhappy ending, and all the more unhappy in proportion to how divinely it began, with what wings it first took flight."
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"I can't leave her now. I like her too much. There, I said it. But I won't say it again."
"You all right?" he said again.I didn't love him, I was far away from him, it was as though I was seeing him through a smeared window or glossy paper; he didn't belong here. But he existed, he deserved to be alive. I was wishing I could tell him how to change so he could get there, the place where I was."Yes," I said. I touched him on the arm with my hand. My hand touched his arm. Hand touched arm. Language divides us into fragments, I wanted to be whole."
"I shivered as the cold was all encompassing, not just from being outdoors, but from being read as well. He had a way of seeing through me. It was as unnerving as it was bonding and I couldn't figure out how the two could co-exist."
"One's first love is the most transformative and least replicable experience. I could love someone else, but it would be its own unfathomable emotion. It would not be this precious, first, spring love. If I cannot love her fully, it will be a love that corrodes within me."
"However, he wrote some verses on her, and very pretty they were. "And so ended his affection," said Elizabeth impatiently. "There has been many a one, I fancy, overcome in the same way. I wonder who first discovered the efficacy of poetry in driving away love! "I have been used to consider poetry as the food of love," said Darcy. "Of a fine, stout, healthy love it may. Everything nourishes what is strong already. But if it be only a slight, thin sort of inclination, I am convinced that one good sonnet will starve it entirely away."
"Perhaps twenty minutes later he realized she had gone to sleep. He quietly removed his now stiff arm, then turned away. It must have woken her a little After a moment he felt her turn as well and lay a hand, instinctively, like a sleeping wife, across his hips; as if, in some dream, he was the one who escaped."
"You're mine, he growled. He hoped she really understood that too. That she was his in every sense of the word. And vice versa. The female completely owned him. Until the day he died, he would be hers."
"She wanted to know what it was like to be completely possessed by this man. Instead of scaring her, the thought sent the most erotic thrill racing through her. If she was stupid enough to sleep with him, she knew that things between them would end badly, but she wanted Levi in a way that defied logic, and probably her sanity, and she wanted everything he had to offer. Even if she got burned in the end."
Explore more quotes by Charles Baudelaire
"Modernity signifies the transitory, the fugitive, the contingent, the half of art of which the other half is the eternal and the immutable."
"Nothing is as tedious as the limping days,When snowdrifts yearly cover all the ways,And ennui, sour fruit of incurious gloom,Assumes control of fate's immortal loom."
"As a remedy against all ills - poverty sickness and melanchol - only one thing is absolutely necessary: a liking for work."
"The solitary and thoughtful stroller finds a singular intoxication in this universal communion. The man who loves to lose himself in a crowd enjoys feverish delights that the egoist locked up in himself as in a box, and the slothful man like a mollusk in his shell, will be eternally deprived of. He adopts as his own all the occupations, all the joys and all the sorrows that chance offers."
"And, drunk with my own madness, I shouted at him furiously, "Make life beautiful! Make life beautiful!"
"Flesh is willing, but the Soul requiresSisyphean patience for its song,Time, Hippocrates remarked, is shortand Art is long."
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