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Whenever books are burned, men also in the end are burned.
Heinrich Heine
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Heinrich Heine
Age: 58 †
Born: 1797
Born: December 13
Died: 1856
Died: February 17
Author
Essayist
Journalist
Literary Critic
Poet
Poet Lawyer
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Dusseldorf
Christian Johann Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Harry Heine
Men
Censorship
Burned
Whenever
Books
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More quotes by Heinrich Heine
Be entirely tolerant or not at all follow the good path or the evil one. To stand at the crossroads requires more strength than you possess.
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Religion cannot sink lower than when somehow it is raised to a state religion ... It becomes then an avowed mistress.
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Glow-worms on the ground are moving, As if in the torch-dance circling.
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God will pardon: That's His business.
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I consider it a degradation and a stain on my honor to submit to baptism in order to qualify myself for state employment in Prussia.
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The stones here speak to me, and I know their mute language. Also, they seem deeply to feel what I think. So a broken column of the old Roman times, an old tower of Lombardy, a weather- beaten Gothic piece of a pillar understands me well. But I am a ruin myself, wandering among ruins.
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True eloquence consists in saying all that is necessary, and nothing but what is necessary.
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The cloudlets are lazily sailing O'er the blue Atlantic sea And mid the twilight there hovers A shadowy figure o'er me.
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The arrow belongs not to the archer when it has once left the bow the word no longer belongs to the speaker when it has once passed his lips, especially when it has been multiplied by the press.
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Sleep is lovely, death is better still, not to have been born is of course the miracle.
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I do not know the meaning of my sadness there is an old fairy tale that I cannot get out of my mind.
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Like a great poet, Nature knows how to produce the greatest effects with the most limited means.
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Pretty women without religion are like flowers without perfume.
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Where books are burned in the end people will be burned too.
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The butterfly long loved the beautiful rose, And flirted around all day While round him in turn with her golden caress, Soft fluttered the sun's warm ray.... I know not with whom the rose was in love, But I know that I loved them all. The butterfly, rose, and the sun's bright ray, The star and the bird's sweet call.
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The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood.
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In action, the English have the advantage enjoyed by free men always entitled to free discussion: of having a ready judgment on every question. We Germans, on the other hand, are always thinking. We think so much that we never form a judgment.
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So we keep asking, over and over,Until a handful of earthStops our mouths -But is that an answer?
Heinrich Heine
Our sweetest hopes rise blooming. And then again are gone, They bloom and fade alternate, And so it goes rolling on. I know it, and it troubles My life, my love, my rest, My heart is wise and witty, And it bleeds within my breast.
Heinrich Heine
Out of my own great woe I make my little songs.
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