A Quote by Charles Baudelaire
Alas! Man's vices, horrible as they are supposed to be, contain the positive proof of his taste for the infinite.
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Alas, human vices, however horrible one might imagine them to be, contain the proof (were it only in their infinite expansion) of man's longing for the infinite; but it is a longing that often takes the wrong route. It is my belief that the reason behind all culpable excesses lies in this depravation of the sense of the infinite.
The vices of man, as full of horror as one might suppose them to be, contain the proof (if in nothing else but their infinitely expandable nature) of his taste for the infinite; only, it is a taste that often takes a wrong turn.
If a man has no vices, he is in great danger of making vices about his virtues, and there's a spectacle.
We hear in these days a great deal respecting rights--the rights of private judgment, the rights of labor, the rights of property, and the rights of man. Rights are grand things, divine things in this world of God's; but the way in which we expound these rights, alas! seems to me to be the very incarnation of selfishness. I can see nothing very noble in a man who is forever going about calling for his own rights. Alas! alas! for the man who feels nothing more grand in this wondrous, divine world than his own rights.
It is not proof that I sought. I, of all men, know that proof is but a fallacy invented by man to justify to himself and his fellows his own crass lust and folly.
I do not love a man, except I hate his vices, because those vices are the enemies, and the destruction of that friend whom I love.
The discovery of the good taste of bad taste can be very liberating. The man who insists on high and serious pleasures is depriving himself of pleasure; he continually restricts what he can enjoy; in the constant exercise of his good taste he will eventually price himself out of the market, so to speak. Here Camp taste supervenes upon good taste as a daring and witty hedonism. It makes the man of good taste cheerful, where before he ran the risk of being chronically frustrated. It is good for the digestion.
His vices were the vices of his time and culture, but his virtues transcended the milieu of his life.
GRAVITATION, n. The tendency of all bodies to approach one another with a strength proportioned to the quantity of matter they contain-the quantity of matter they contain being ascertained by the strength of their tendency to approach one another. This is a lovely and edifying illustration of how science, having made A the proof of B, makes B the proof of A.
Oh, popular applause! what heart of man
Is proof against thy sweet seducing charms?
The wisest and the best feel urgent need
Of all their caution in thy gentlest gales;
But swell'd into a gust--who then, alas!
With all his canvas set, and inexpert,
And therefore, heedless, can withstand thy power?
I went to network on a handful of pilots, and going to network is the most stressful situation anybody can ever be in. You're supposed to be on point, you're supposed to be at the top of your game, the funniest you can be, in about five minutes, in front of people wearing suits who really don't care, and they've probably already picked their person, but they have to see a handful just to satisfy the process. It's the most horrible, horrible process known to man. I wouldn't want anybody to go through it.
I've had people say to me, 'Look at the sky, the fields, the ocean, the beautiful sunset. Isn't that proof positive of God?' Following that line of thought, look at the magnificent rainbows after a big rainstorm. Isn't that proof positive that God is gay?
Unlike other vices, cruelty, alas, is never boring.
Your dunce who can't do his sums always has a taste for the infinite.
I dare not think that any supercelestial heaven, or whatsoever else ... was increate and eternal. And as for the place of God before the world created, the finite wisdom of mortal men hath no perception of it; neither can it limit the seat of infinite power, no more than infinite power itself can be limited; for his place is in himself, whom no magnitude else can contain.
Scientists are supposed to live in ivory towers. Their darkrooms and their vibration-proof benches are supposed to isolate their activities from the disturbances of common life. What they tell us is supposed to be for the ages, not for the next election. But the reality may be otherwise.
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