Heinrich Heine
Heinrich Heine
Christian Johann Heinrich Heinewas a German poet, journalist, essayist, and literary critic. He is best known outside Germany for his early lyric poetry, which was set to music in the form of Liederby composers such as Robert Schumann and Franz Schubert. Heine's later verse and prose are distinguished by their satirical wit and irony. He is considered part of the Young Germany movement. His radical political views led to many of his works being banned by German authorities. Heine spent...
NationalityGerman
ProfessionPoet
Date of Birth13 December 1797
CountryGermany
The music at a wedding procession always reminds me of the music of soldiers going into battle
I will not say that women have no character; rather, they have a new one every day
Out of my great sorrows I make my little songs
The men of action are, after all only the unconscious instruments of the men of thought
Society is a republic. When an individual endeavors to lift himself above his fellows, he is dragged down by the mass, either by means of ridicule or of calumny. No one shall be more virtuous or more intellectually gifted than others. Whoever, by the irresistable force of genius, rises above the common herd is certain to be ostracized by society, which will pursue him with such merciless derision and detraction that at last he will be compelled to retreat into the solitude of his thoughts.
All our contemporary philosophers perhaps without knowing it are looking through eyeglasses that Baruch Spinoza polished. Spinoza was a philosopher who earned his livelihood by grinding lenses.
But oh! the Latin!-Madame, you can really have no idea of what a mess it is. The Romans would never have found time to conquer the world if they had been obliged first to learn Latin. Lucky dogs! they already knew in their cradles the nouns ending in im. I on the contrary had to learn it by heart, in the sweat of my brow...
Life is all too wondrous sweet, and the world is so beautifully bewildered; it is the dream of an intoxicated divinity...
The years keep coming and going, Men will arise & depart; Only one thing is immortal: The love that is in my heart.
All special charters of freedom must be abrogated where the universal law of freedom is to flourish.
The sea appears all golden. Beneath the sun-lit sky.
The night comes stealing o'er me, And clouds are on the sea; While the wavelets rustle before me With a mystical melody.
Silence can be defined as conversation with an Englishman
There is no Sixth Commandment in art. The poet is entitled to lay his hands on whatever material he finds necessary for his work.