Arthur Rimbaud

“ And the nape of his neck bathing in cool blue watercress,
Sleeping; he is stretched out on the grass, under the skies,
Pale in his green bed where the light falls like rain.
Feet in the gladiolas, he is sleeping. Smiling like
A sick child would smile, he takes a nap:
Nature, rock him warmly: he is cold. ”

“ The great Balzac, Bazin, Bertrand, Maupassant, Alphonse Daudet, Baudelaire, Flaubert the Magnificent, letters of peasant Millet, the diary of Fromentin in Africa, Huysman, Mallarmé, and the Little Grandson of the Great Renan, Ernest Psichari, in the book about Africa, The Centurion.
I recall an occasional line Rimbaud wrote before he was twenty, which gleams in my mind today like cut steel; hard, perfect, indestructible, cruel. The great poetry of France is prose, which is the world’s best. ”

“ Rimbault's conjecture that he was the Henry Hutton of Witton Gilbert, Durham, fifth son of Edward Hutton, B.C.L., bailiff of Durham, seems unacceptable from the fact that Henry Hutton of Witton Gilbert died in 1671. Wood relates that the poet was some time at Oxford, but, minding more the smooth parts of poetry and romance than logic, departed, as it seems, without a degree;' his name does not appear in the matriculation registers. ”

“ His eyes (the dark pupils of which you will remember covered each eyeball) flashed madly from his blonde visage, and he gazed from side to side, as if in search of some deadly weapon. At that moment he was prepared for combat and for murder.
Dermoyne caught his eye: never lunatic cowered at the sight of his keeper, as Barnhurst before Dermoyne.
"It won't do. You haven't the 'pluck,'" sneered Arthur,—"if it was a weak girl, there's no knowing what you might do; but as it is a man and an—executioner." ”

“ Rimbault, which was most successful, and laid the foundation of that artist’s success and fame. Rimbault had an apprentice named Audinet, father of Mr. Philip Audinet, an esteemed engraver. [1] A nephew of the clock-maker was Stephen Francis Rimbault, of 9 Denmark Street, Soho, organist of the Church of St. Giles-in-the-Fields for forty years; the date of his death was about 1834. His distinguished son, Edward Francis Rimbault, was born in Soho on 13th June 1816, and he at the age of sixteen became organist of the Swiss Church, Soho, where he imbibed his taste for ancient music. ”

“ He died after a lingering illness on 26th September 1876, aged sixty, and his widow did not survive for quite a year. Many well-known men had petitioned for a pension for Mrs. Rimbault, and a donation of £300 was granted by the Earl of Beaconsfield, which she did not live to receive. ”

“ It was much more difficult getting down than getting up. Still, by dint of clinging tight hold of the ivy and feeling every step, he managed to descend the perilous arch and get on to the comparatively safe footing of the buttress.
“You cut on,” shouted Arthur from above, “I’ll be down in a second. Don’t wait—I have found an owl’s nest up here; and I’m going to collar a young ’un for each of us. Don’t tell them. If Railsford asks where I am, tell him I’m walking home. You can go with him on the tandem. I’ll be home as soon as you.”
At the same moment a shout from below of “Herapath!” ”

“ I know you’re a master, and head of a house, and a man who ought to be everything that’s right and good—”
“Come, come,” interrupted Railsford, “we have had enough of this. You are excited and forget yourself to talk in this foolish way.”
And he quitted the study.
What, he wondered, could be the meaning of all this wild outbreak on the part of the detected prefect? What did he mean by that “If you knew all I know”? It sounded like one of those vague menaces with which Arthur had been wont to garnish his utterances last term. ”

“ From time to time a crash is heard; the old error comes tottering to the ground, and suddenly the new fabric of thought stands revealed, as though it were a monument just uncovered. Everyone recognizes and admires it. ”

“ I regard it as a kind of trust, given to me by Providence for a good purpose."
"What purpose, pray?" said Herman, opening his eyes.
"To punish those criminals whom the law does not punish; to protect those victims it does not protect," answered Dermoyne, steadily. "Now, for instance, were I to encounter the seducer of Alice Burney,—were I to stand face to face with him, as I do with you,—were I to place my thumb upon his right temple and my fingers upon his left temple,—thus—"
"You,—you,—" gasped the minister, who suddenly felt the hand of Arthur Dermoyne upon his forehead ”

“ Four years of such a life broke down his manhood. Hard as he sometimes struggled to rise above the debasing appetite that had enslaved him, resolution snapped like thread in a flame with every new temptation. He stood erect and hopeful to-day, and to-morrow lay prone and despairing under the heel of his enemy.
At the end of his second term in Congress the people of his district rejected him. They could tolerate a certain degree of drunkenness and demoralization in their representative, but Ridley had fallen too low. ”

“ The great thing was for Limbert to bring out his next book, which was just what his delightful engagement with the Beacon would give him leisure and liberty to do. The kind of work, all human and elastic and suggestive, was capital experience: in picking up things for his bi-weekly letter he would pick up life as well, he would pick up literature. The new publications, the new pictures, the new people—there would be nothing too novel for us and nobody too sacred. ”

“ The angels! and Heaven! now too do I understand the inner existence; and the dreams and visions of my childhood were, after all, blessed realities; and the dead father and the dead mother, after whom my childish heart yearned so lovingly, were revealed to me as a living father and a living mother, in a wondrously beautiful life. Thus was a warm inner love kept alive in my soul; and now I know that death is but a new birth. As a glove is drawn from the hand, so is the body drawn from the spirit; and, I too, will thus be born again. Life is again crowned with a beautiful hope. ”

“ Markland, taking a deep breath. "This is the other Dromio. I don't wonder that Mr. Allison and Mr. Lamar were deceived. I was, for a moment. What a likeness he bears to Mr. Lyon! Ah, well!—the matter has worried me, for a short time, dreadfully. I was sure that I knew my man; but this strange affirmation in regard to him threw me into terrible doubts. Thank fortune! the mystery is completely solved. I must go back to the city this very afternoon, and see Brainard. It will not do for him to remain long in doubt. ”

“ Ridley, with his old appetite not dead, but only half asleep and lying in wait for an opportunity, goes also to Mr. Birtwell's, and the sparkle and flavor of wine and the invitations that are pressed upon him from all sides prove too much for his good resolutions. He tastes and falls. He goes in his right mind, and comes away so much intoxicated that he cannot find his way home. ”

“ Maud behaved well, I thought, to her mother, and well indeed for a girl who had mainly been taught to be flowerlike to every one. What she gave Ray Limbert her fine, abundant needs made him then and ever pay for; but the gift was liberal, almost wonderful—an assertion I make even while remembering to how many clever women, early and late, his work has been dear. It was not only that the woman he was to marry was in love with him, but that (this was the strangeness) she had really seen almost better than any one what he could do. ”

“ Teachers and preachers ring in our ears the same dread chimes, thrilling the strongest nerves and appalling the stoutest hearts. Death is pictured to us as a grim monster; and we shudder as we look at the ghastly apparition. ”

“ Alas that we have turned from him so often to walk in our own paths and follow the devices of our own hearts! His ways are way of pleasantness and his paths are peace, but ours wind too often among thorns and briars, or go down into the gloomy valley and shadow of death. ”

“ I am weak and foolish! Life is a reality; not a cycle of dreamy romance. All poetry lies in the dim distance—a thing of memory or anticipation—the present is invariably prose. How these vague ideals do haunt the mind! Love! Love! I had imagined something deeper, purer, holier than anything stirring in my heart for Leon Dexter! Was I deceived? Is the poet's song but jingling rhyme?—a play of words in trancing measure? Let me bind back into quietude these wildly leaping impulses, and clip the wings of these girlish fancies. They lead not the soul to happiness in a world like ours. ”

“ My every action, word, thought, had my feeling for Rima as a motive. Why, I began to ask myself, was Rima so much to me? It was easy to answer that question: Because nothing so exquisite had ever been created. All the separate and fragmentary beauty and melody and graceful motion found scattered throughout nature were concentrated and harmoniously combined in her. How various, how luminous, how divine she was! A being for the mind to marvel at, to admire continually, finding some new grace and charm every hour, every moment, to add to the old. ”

“ Awakened to life out of the night of unconsciousness, the will finds itself an individual, in an endless and boundless world, among innumerable individuals, all striving, suffering, erring; and as if through a troubled dream it hurries back to its old unconsciousness. Yet till then its desires are limitless, its claims inexhaustible, and every satisfied desire gives rise to a new one. No possible satisfaction in the world could suffice to still its longings, set a goal to its infinite cravings, and fill the bottomless abyss of its heart. ”

“ For the thousandth time there rose up in her mind the old Rimrock as she had seen him first—a lean, sunburned man on a buckskin horse with a pistol slung at his hip; a desert miner, clean, laughing, eager, following on after his dream of riches. But now, soft and fat, in top hat and diamonds, swaggering past with that woman on his arm! It would be a blessing for them both if Stoddard should jump the mine and put them back where they were before—he a hardy prospector; and she a poor typist, with a dream! ”

“ Alas! no bird of beauty dips its wing in these dead waters, and plumes itself for an aerial flight of love and joy. But the cold contraction chains down all the freer, beautiful life, into a hopeless, chilling inanity. ”

“ In my happiest hours, the eager question rushes upon me, involuntarily, 'Am I entirely content?' And the response that rises up, is ever 'No.' I am young, and this soft air steals over a brow of health—I can appreciate the beautiful and exquisite. I can drink in the deep poetry of noble minds—I can idly revel in voluptuous music, and dream away my soul, but with that bewitching dream, there is still a yearning for its realization. I cannot abate the restlessness that presses upon me—I look around, and young faces are bright and smiling with cheerful gayety. ”

“ When I looked down on the dark, glassy forest pool, where Rima would look no more to see herself so much better than in the small mirror of her lover's pupil, it showed me a gaunt, ragged man with a tangled mass of black hair falling over his shoulders, the bones of his face showing through the dead-looking, sun-parched skin, the sunken eyes with a gleam in them that was like insanity. ”

“ Before daylight had quite passed away, he had surveyed his position, and found that he was in a trap from which it was impossible to extricate himself. He could neither scale the window nor make himself heard. He was quite at the mercy of the dean's memory; for he had not told any one where he was going, because he expected to return home within a few hours. "Would his disappearance be advertised, and would the dean see it, and when?" Dr. Rimbault had none of the bodily fat which is said to support life under long periods of fasting, and the last was, therefore, an important question with him. ”

“ Ridley was still a handsome woman, and her husband felt the old pride warming his bosom when he saw her again among brilliant and attractive women and noted the impression she made. He watched her with something of the proud interest a mother feels for a beautiful daughter who makes her appearance in society for the first time, and his heart beat with liveliest pleasure as he noticed the many instances in which she attracted and held people by the grace of her manner and the charm of her conversation. ”

“ IT was a golden sunset, which was fondly gazed upon by an old man on whose broad brow the history of seventy winters had been written. He sat in the wide porch of a large old-fashioned house: his look was calm and clear, though years had quelled the fire of his eagle glance; his silver hair was borne mildly back, by the south wind of August, and a smile of sweetness played over his features, breathing the music of contentment. His heart was still fresh, and his mind open to receive an impress of the loveliness of earth. ”

“ The deep, unswerving confidence of young love, what a blessed thing it is! Heart answers to heart without an unequal throb. The world around is bright and beautiful: the atmosphere is filled with spring's most delicious perfumes. ”

“ And now the damp earth presses heavily over that cherished form; far down in the darkness and silence of the grave must the loved one remain, never more to cheer by her gentle words of love and kindness, the heart of him who so needed her sympathy and love. ”

“ That within three days of the bridal morning a tempest should have raged, scattering on the wind sweet blossoms which had just opened to the sunshine, tearing away the clinging vines of love, and leaving marks of desolation which no dew and sunshine could ever obliterate! ”