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Every age has its problem, by solving which humanity is helped forward.

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
Age
Problem
Every
Solving
Helped
Forward
Progress
Humanity

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Don't send a poet to London.
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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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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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And over the pond are sailing Two swans all white as snow Sweet voices mysteriously wailing Pierce through me as onward they go. They sail along, and a ringing Sweet melody rises on high And when the swans begin singing, They presently must die.
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What lies lurk in kisses.
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God will forgive me. It's his job.
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He is noble who both feels and acts nobly.
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Oh fair, oh sweet and holy as dew at morning tide, I gaze on thee, and yearnings, sad in my bosom hide.
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God will pardon: That's His business.
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In politics, as in life, we must above all things wish only for the attainable.
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There is only one writer in whom I find something that reminds me of the directness of style which is found in the Bible. It is Shakespeare.
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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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Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth The best of all were never to be born.
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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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Glow-worms on the ground are moving, As if in the torch-dance circling.
Heinrich Heine
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It is an ancient story Yet is it ever new.
Heinrich Heine
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Christ rode on an ass, but now asses ride on Christ.
Heinrich Heine
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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...
Heinrich Heine
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Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
Heinrich Heine
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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