Oh, the vast delight of gazing fixedly, drowning one’s glance in the immensity of sky and sea! … Nevertheless, these thoughts, whether formed within me or projected from things, soon grow too intense. The energy which pleasure does not absorb creates a kind of unrest and a positive pain.
Charles Baudelaire ⬩ Confiteor of the Artist ⬩ Twenty Prose Poems
added February 24, 2023 ⬩ random excerpt