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Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.
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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Writer
Dusseldorf
Christian Johann Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Harry Heine
Book
Destined
Burned
Wherever
Beings
Books
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Humans
More quotes by Heinrich Heine
Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth The best of all were never to be born.
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Newness hath an evanescent beauty.
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Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don And through the blue heavens above us The very clouds move on.
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Whenever books are burned, men also in the end are burned.
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Perfumes are the feelings of flowers, and as the human heart, imagining itself alone and unwatched, feels most deeply in the night-time, so seems it as if the flowers, in musing modesty, await the mantling eventide ere they give themselves up wholly to feeling...
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Jews who long have drifted from the faith of their fathers... are stirred in their inmost parts when the old, familiar Passover sounds chance to fall upon their ears.
Heinrich Heine
Like a great poet, Nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. These are simply a sun, trees, flowers, water and love.
Heinrich Heine
Lyrical poetry is much the same an every age, as the songs of the nightingales in every spring-time.
Heinrich Heine
When'er into thine eyes I see, All pain and sorrow fly from me. [Ger., Wenn ich in deine Augen sch' So schwindet all' mein Leid und Weh.]
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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.
Heinrich Heine
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.
Heinrich Heine
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.
Heinrich Heine
Write . . . write . . . pencil . . . paper.
Heinrich Heine
God will pardon: That's His business.
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Human misery is too great for men to die without faith.
Heinrich Heine
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.
Heinrich Heine
Each violet peeps from its dwelling to gaze at the bright stars above.
Heinrich Heine
A lonely fir-tree is standing On a northern barren height It sleeps, and the ice and snow-drift Cast round it a garment of white.
Heinrich Heine
Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you. Oh, what lies there are in kisses!
Heinrich Heine
Perhaps already I am dead, And these perhaps are phantoms vain - These motley phantasies that pass At night through my disordered brain. Perhaps with ancient heathen shapes, Old faded gods, this brain is full Who, for their most unholy rites, Have chosen a dead poet's skull.
Heinrich Heine
