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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
Publicist
Writer
Dusseldorf
Christian Johann Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Harry Heine
Song
Littles
Little
Great
Make
Sorrows
Sorrow
Songs

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The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood.
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Everywhere that a great soul gives utterance to its thoughts, there also is a Golgotha.
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Life is all too wondrous sweet, and the world is so beautifully bewildered it is the dream of an intoxicated divinity.
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In politics, as in life, we must above all things wish only for the attainable.
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There, where one burns books... one, in the end, burns men.
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Christ rode on an ass, but now asses ride on Christ.
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Experience is a good school. But the fees are high.
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Never let a fool kiss you, or a kiss fool you. Oh, what lies there are in kisses!
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Twelve Dancings are dancing, and taking no rest, And closely their hands together are press'd And soon as a dance has come to a close, Another begins, and each merrily goes.
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Each violet peeps from its dwelling to gaze at the bright stars above.
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The violets prattle and titter, And gaze on the stars high above.
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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.
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Write . . . write . . . pencil . . . paper.
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He who fears to venture as far as his heart urges and his reason permits, is a coward he who ventures further than he intended to go, is a slave.
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So we keep asking, over and over,Until a handful of earthStops our mouths -But is that an answer?
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Ask me not what I have, but what I am.
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I fell asleep reading a dull book and dreamed I kept on reading, so I awoke from sheer boredom.
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The Bible is the great family chronicle of the Jews.
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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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Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.
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