Félicien Rops , 1833 - 1898

"(...) Each time autumn arrives with its austere intoxications, I suffer as if every hope that I carry within me and which are the same as those that illuminated my twentieth year were going to expire forever along with the dead leaves. I am afraid of being old and of no longer being able to inspire love in a woman, which is a true death for a man of my nature and with my needs for madness of mind and body."
-- Letter from Félicien Rops to Louise Danse

Courtesy of: Musée Félicien Rops

See Also: Fin de Siecle - Félicien Rops