A poet makes himself a visionary through a long, boundless, and 
systematized disorganization of all the senses. All forms of love, of 
suffering, of madness; he searches himself, he exhausts within himself 
all poisons, and preserves their quintessences. Unspeakable torment, 
where he will need the greatest faith, a superhuman strength, where he 
becomes all men: the great invalid, the great criminal, the great 
accursed—and the Supreme Scientist! For he attains the unknown! Because 
he has cultivated his soul, already rich, more than anyone! He attains 
the unknown, and, if demented, he finally loses the understanding of his
 visions, he will at least have seen them! So what if he is destroyed in
 his ecstatic flight through things unheard of, unnameable: other 
horrible workers will come; they will begin at the horizons where the 
first one has fallen!
~ Arthur Rimbaud 
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