Heinrich Heine

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Biography

German poet, journalist, essayist and literary critic, born 13 December 1797 in Düsseldorf, Germany and died 17 February 1856 in Paris, France. He was one of the most significant German poets.

  • Real name
  • Christian Johann Heinrich Heine née Harry Heine
  • Name variations
  • A1 to A6·C. Heine·H. Heine·H.Heine·Hajne·Heine·Heine)·Heinich Heine·Heinr. Heine·Heinrihs Heine·Henrich Heine·Ε. Χάινε·Ερρίκος Χάινε·Г. Гайне·Г. Гейне·Гейне·Генрих Гейне
  • Primary profession
  • Writer·soundtrack·miscellaneous
  • Country
  • Germany
  • Nationality
  • German
  • Gender
  • Male
  • Birth date
  • 13 December 1797
  • Place of birth
  • Düsseldorf
  • Death date
  • 1856-02-17
  • Death age
  • 59
  • Place of death
  • Paris
  • Spouses
  • Education
  • University of Bonn·Frederick William University·University of Göttingen
  • Knows language
  • German language
  • Parents
  • Betty Heine

Music

Books

Trivia

Heinrich Heine was a cousin of Alice Heine (1858-1925), who by successive marriages became Duchesse de Richelieu and the first American-born Princess of Monaco.

Quotes

Wherever books are burned, human beings are destined to be burned too.

We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged,With his night-cap and his night-shirt tatters,He botches up the loop-holes in the structure of the world.

Where they burn books, at the end they also burn people,Lieb Liebchen, leg ‘s Händchen aufs Herze mein; -Ach, hörst du, wie’s pochet im Kämmerlein,Da hauset ein Zimmermann schlimm und arg,Der zimmert mir einen Totensarg. Es hämmert und klopfet bei Tag und bei Nacht;Es hat mich schon längst um den Schlaf gebracht. Ach! sputet Euch, Meister Zimmermann,Damit ich balde schlafen kann.

Perfumes are the feelings of flowers.

First, I thought, almost despairing,This must crush my spirit now;Yet I bore it, and am bearing-Only do not ask me how.

A pine tree standeth lonelyIn the North on an upland bare;It standeth whitely shroudedWith snow, and sleepeth there. It dreameth of a Palm treeWhich far in the East alone,In the mournful silence standethOn its ridge of burning stone.

Where they have burned books, they will end in burning human beings.

The music at a wedding procession always reminds me of the music of soldiers going into battle.

And yonder sits a maiden, The fairest of the fair, With gold in her garment glittering, And she combs her golden hair.

Where words leave off, music begins.

If the Romans had been obliged to learn Latin, they would never have found the time to conquer the world.

Where books are burned, they will, in the end, burn people, too.

He only profits from praise who values criticism.

When words leave off music begins.

The Romans would never have had time to conquer the world if they had been obliged to learn Latin first of all.

If you wish to strive for peace of soul and pleasure then believe.

We keep on deceiving ourselves in regard to our faults until we at last come to look upon them as virtues.

God will forgive me that is His business.

God will forgive me the foolish remarks I have made about Him just as I will forgive my opponents the foolish things they have written about me even though they are spiritually as inferior to me as I to thee O God!,I have smelt all the aromas there are in the fragrant kitchen they call Earth and what we can enjoy in this life I surely have enjoyed just like a lord!,When the heroes go off the stage the clowns come on.

Matrimony - the high sea for which no compass has yet been invented.

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.

It is extremely difficult for a Jew to be converted for how can he bring himself to believe in the divinity of - another Jew?,It must require an inordinate share of vanity and presumption after enjoying so much that is good and beautiful on earth to ask the Lord for immortality in addition to it all.

Woman is at once apple and serpent.

You cannot feed the hungry on statistics.

Communism possesses a language which every people can understand - its elements are hunger, envy, and death.

Sleep is lovely, death is better still, not to have been born is of course the miracle.

When words leave off, music begins.

The Wedding March always reminds me of the music played when soldiers go into battle.

Every man, either to his terror or consolation, has some sense of religion.

I will not say that women have no character; rather, they have a new one every day.

Experience is a good school. But the fees are high.

Human misery is too great for men to do without faith.

If the Romans had been obliged to learn Latin, they would never have found time to conquer the world.

Music played at weddings always reminds me of the music played for soldiers before they go into battle. .

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