More sensitive souls you would rather not meet

Edmund White on the French 19th-century poet, Arthur Rimbaud

Pretty funny in parts, this description of the early relationship between Rimbaud and Verlaine. A highlight:

Rimbaud could certainly be as pitiless as a real assassin. He once had Verlaine play a "game" in which Verlaine would stretch out his hand on the table and Rimbaud would stab at his spread fingers. Verlaine thought the point of the game was to show that he wouldn't flinch, that he trusted Rimbaud. But Rimbaud quite simply stabbed him in the wrist.