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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.]
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
Mein
Thine
Sorrow
Eyes
Eye
Pain
Wenn
More quotes by 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.
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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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We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged
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Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
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God will forgive me. It's his job.
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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
The gazelles so gentle and clever Skip lightly in frolicsome mood.
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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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The men of action are, after all, only the unconscious instruments of the men of thought.
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What lies lurk in kisses.
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He that marries is like the dogs who was married to the Adriatic. He knows not what there is in that which he marries mayhap treasures and pearls, mayhap monsters and tempests, await him.
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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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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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Music is a strange thing. I would almost say it is a miracle. For it stands halfway between thought and phenomenon, between spirit and matter.
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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.
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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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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
My heart resembles the ocean has storm, and ebb and flow and many a beautiful pearl lies hid in its depths below.
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Atheism is the last word of theism
Heinrich Heine
I do not know the meaning of my sadness there is an old fairy tale that I cannot get out of my mind.
Heinrich Heine