Charles Baudelaire 9 April 1821 – 31 August 1867

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Baudelaire's great talent I suppose was distilling sour grapes into eloquence.
'' Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness. This obsessive idea is above all a child of giant cities, of the intersecting of their myriad relations. '' (from:  Dedication of 'Le Spleen de Paris' * * also known as 'Paris Spleen' or 'Petits Poèmes en prose'
'' Who among us has not dreamt, in moments of ambition, of the miracle of a poetic prose, musical without rhythm and rhyme, supple and staccato enough to adapt to the lyrical stirrings of the soul, the undulations of dreams, and sudden leaps of consciousness. This obsessive idea is above all a child of giant cities, of the intersecting of their myriad relations. '' (from:  Dedication of 'Le Spleen de Paris' * * also known as 'Paris Spleen' or 'Petits Poèmes en prose'
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