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God will pardon me. It is His trade.
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
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Poet Lawyer
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Dusseldorf
Christian Johann Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Harry Heine
Pardon
Trade
More quotes by Heinrich Heine
The propaganda of communism possesses a language which every people can understand. Its elements are simply hunger, envy, death.
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What lies lurk in kisses.
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If thou lookest on the lime-leaf, Thou a heart's form will discover Therefore are the lindens ever Chosen seats of each fond lover.
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Human misery is too great for men to die without faith.
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The air grows cool and darkles, The Rhine flows calmly on The mountain summit sparkles In the light of the setting sun.
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Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth The best of all were never to be born.
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Laughter is wholesome. God is not so dull as some people make out. Did not He make the kitten to chase its tail.
Heinrich Heine
Out of my great sorrows, I make little songs.
Heinrich Heine
The negro king desired to be portrayed as white. But do not laugh at the poor African for every man is but another negro king, and would like to appear in a color different from that with which Fate has bedaubed him.
Heinrich Heine
Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.
Heinrich Heine
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.
Heinrich Heine
The same fact that Boccaccio offers in support of religion might be adduced in behalf of a republic: It exists in spite of its ministers.
Heinrich Heine
Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
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True eloquence consists in saying all that is necessary, and nothing but what is necessary.
Heinrich Heine
It is an ancient story Yet is it ever new.
Heinrich Heine
Sleep is lovely, death is better still, not to have been born is of course the miracle.
Heinrich Heine
You cannot feed the hungry on statistics.
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The gazelles so gentle and clever Skip lightly in frolicsome mood.
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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.
Heinrich Heine
On the waves of the brook she dances by, The light, the lovely dragon-fly She dances here, she dances there, The shimmering, glimmering flutterer fair. And many a foolish young beetle's impressed By the blue gauze gown in which she is dressed They admire the enamel that decks her bright, And her elegant waist so slim and slight.
Heinrich Heine