It is this admirable, this immortal, instinctive sense of beauty
Our unquenchable thirst for all that lies beyond, and that life
It is both by poetry and through poetry, by music and through music,
those tears are not a proof of overabundant joy: they bear witness
that leads us to look upon the spectacle of this world as a glimpse,
a correspondence with heaven.
reveals, is the liveliest proof of our immortality.
that the soul dimly descries the splendours beyond the tomb; and
when an exquisite poem brings tears to our eyes,
rather to an impatient melancholy, a clamant demand by our nerves,
our nature, exiled in imperfection, which would fain enter into
immediate possession, while still on this earth, of a revealed paradise.
Charles Baudelaire
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