Wheresoe’er I turn my view, All is strange, yet nothing new; Endless labour all along, Endless labour to be wrong; Phrase that Time has flung away, Uncouth words in disarray: Trickt in antique ruff and bonnet, Ode and elegy and sonnet.
“One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters… But with what? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. But get drunk.”
Charles Baudelaire
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