Tell me, enigmatic man, whom do you love best, your father,Your mother, your sister, or your brother?
I have neither father, nor mother, nor sister, nor brother.
Your friends?
Now you use a word whose meaning I have never known.
Your country?
I do not know in what latitude it lies.
Beauty?
I could indeed love her, if she were goddess and immortal.
Gold?
I hate it as you hate God.
Then, what do you love, extraordinary stranger?
I love the clouds...the clouds that pass up there
Up there, the wonderful clouds!
-Charles Baudelaire
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