A Quote by Charles Baudelaire

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
I had an attack of the gout two days before pulling out, and I went limping off to the war instead of coming limping back from it.
Truths are immortal, my dear friend; they are immortal like God! What we call a falsity is like a fruit; it has a certain number of days; it is bound to decay. Whereas, what we call truth is like gold; days, months, even centuries can hide gold, can overlook it but they can never make it decay.
Baseball consists of a million threads of dullness, on a loom of ennui, woven into a tapestry of tedium.
My favorite designers are Levi Strauss and Fruit of the Loom
My favorite designers are Levi Strauss and Fruit of the Loom.
New York is large, glamorous, easy-going, kindly and incurious, but above all it is a crucible - because it is large enough to be incurious.
At home, off-duty, I wear T-shirts from Fruit of the Loom - but I have them tailored.
This morning when I put on my underwear I could hear the fruit-of-the-loom guys laughing at me.
My most famous commercial was for Fruit Of the Loom underwear. I took a lot of razzing from my classmates.
I wouldn't say I eat fruit all the time. If I'm in the mood for fruit, I'll eat it. I try to get some kind of fruit throughout the day or every couple of days. I usually go for bananas to keep the cramps away.
Incidentally, did you know that the whole eight glasses a day thing is complete bullshit and has no scientific basis? So many things are like that. Everyone just assumes they're true, because people are basically lazy and incurious, which incidentally is one of those words that sounds like it wouldn't be a word but is.
Through thickest gloom look back, immortal shade, On that confusion which thy death has made.
Symmetry is ennui, and ennui is the very essence of grief and melancholy. Despair yawns.
I am like a tree in a forest. Birds come to the tree, they sit on its branches and eat its fruits. To the birds, the fruit may be sweet or sour or whatever. The birds say sweet or they say sour, but from the tree's point of view, this is just the chattering of birds.
They are a doomed race. Wars, smallpox, gross immorality, a change from old ways to new ways their fate is the common fate of the American, whether he sails the sea in the North, gallops over the plain in the West, or sleeps in his hammock in the forests of Brazil.
Idleness begets ennui, ennui the hypochondriac, and that a diseased body. No laborious person was ever yet hysterical.
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