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What lies lurk in kisses.
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
Publicist
Writer
Dusseldorf
Christian Johann Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Harry Heine
Lies
Lying
Lurk
Kisses
Kissing
More quotes by Heinrich Heine
Ordinarily he was insane, but he had lucid moments when he was merely stupid
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Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.
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I do not know if she was virtuous, but she was ugly, and with a woman that is half the battle.
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All I really want is enough to live on, a little house in the country... and a tree in the garden with seven of my enemies hanging in it.
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Poverty sits by the cradle of all our great men and rocks all of them to manhood.
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Newness hath an evanescent beauty.
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The devil take these people and their language! They take a dozen monosyllabic words in their jaws, chew them, crunch them and spit them out again, and call that speaking. Fortunately they are by nature fairly silent, and although they gaze at us open-mouthed, they spare us long conversations.
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Experience is a good school. But the fees are high.
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I call'd the devil, and he came, And with wonder his form did I closely scan He is not ugly, and is not lame, But really a handsome and charming man. A man in the prime of life is the devil, Obliging, a man of the world, and civil A diplomatist too, well skill'd in debate, He talks quite glibly of church and state.
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We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged
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The spring's already at the gate With looks my care beguiling The country round appeareth straight A flower-garden smiling.
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If the Romans had been obliged to learn Latin, they would never have found time to conquer the world.
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We know only that our entire existence is forced into new paths and disrupted, that new circumstances, new joys and new sorrows await us, and that the unknown has its uncanny attractions, alluring and at the same time anguishing.
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Thought precedes action as lighting does thunder.
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Out of my great sorrows, I make little songs.
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Each violet peeps from its dwelling to gaze at the bright stars above.
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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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The violets prattle and titter, And gaze on the stars high above.
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The lotus flower is troubled At the sun's resplendent light With sunken head and sadly She dreamily waits for the night.
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He who fights with priests may make up his mind to have his poor good name torn and befouled by the most infamous lies and the most cutting slanders.
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