Charles Baudelaire Quotes

I am a cemetery by the moon unblessed.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" — Merely this, and nothing more

To the solemn graves, near a lonely cemetery, my heart like a muffled drum is beating funeral marches.

Wherever I look there is nothing but the image of death.

Sometimes I see me dead in the rain.

It is these black clothes," said Strange. "I am like a leftover piece of funeral, condemned to walk about the Town, frightening people into thinking of their own mortality.

But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch's high estate; (Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow Shall dawn upon him desolate!) And round about his home the glory That blushed and bloomed, Is but a dim-remembered story Of the old time entombed.

When the dawn was still long hours away, bad thoughts took on flesh and began to walk. In the middle of the night thoughts became zombies.

Tis now the very witching time of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out Contagion to this world.

The pallor of girls' brows shall be their pall; Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds, And each slow dusk a drawing-down of blinds.

Once upon a midnight dreary

Never did anybody look so sad. Bitter and black, halfway down, in the darkness, in the shaft which ran from the sunlight to the depths, perhaps a tear formed; a tear fell; the waves swayed this way and that, received it, and were at rest. Never did anybody look so sad.

Take your foot out of the graveyard, they are busy being dead.

Evil indeed is the man who has not one woman to mourn him.

I'm always weeping at something or other.

When one by one our ties are torn, and friend from friend is snatched forlorn; when man is left alone to mourn, oh! then how sweet it is to die!

The common denominator of all my friends is that they're dead.

Go now, verses, on your light feet, you have not trodden hard on the old earth where the graves laugh when they see their guests, the one corpse stacked on top of the other. Go now and stagger to her whom I do not know.

Widow. The word consumes itself.

Personally I have no bone to pick with graveyards.

I grew up in a house that was in a constant state of mourning.

I hate death; it takes people away from you. You're left feeling rudderless.