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Out of my great sorrows, I make little songs.
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
Sorrows
Sorrow
Songs
Song
Littles
Little
Great
Make
More quotes by Heinrich Heine
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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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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I have never seen an ass who talked like a human being, but I have met many human beings who talked like asses.
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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.
Heinrich Heine
Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.
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What lies lurk in kisses.
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Like a great poet, Nature produces the greatest results with the simplest means. These are simply a sun, trees, flowers, water and love.
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The men of action are, after all, only the unconscious instruments of the men of thought.
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In the image of the lion made He kittens small and curious.
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The Bible is the great family chronicle of the Jews.
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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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Ordinarily he was insane, but he had lucid moments when he was merely stupid
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Nature, like a true poet, abhors abrupt transitions.
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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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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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Poverty sits by the cradle of all our great men and rocks all of them to manhood.
Heinrich Heine
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
Each violet peeps from its dwelling to gaze at the bright stars above.
Heinrich Heine
The lotus flower is troubled At the sun's resplendent light With sunken head and sadly She dreamily waits for the night.
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