If you wish to strive for peace of soul and pleasure, then believe. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
The swan, like the soul of the poet, By the dull world is ill understood. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Our souls must become expanded by the contemplation of Nature's grandeur, before we can fully comprehend the greatness of man. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Life is the greatest of blessings and death the worst of evils.... all great, powerful souls love life. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Everywhere that a great soul gives utterance to its thoughts, there also is a Golgotha. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Oh, they loved dearly: their souls kissed, they kissed with their eyes, they were both but one single kiss. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Genius: 1. to believe your own thought. To believe that what is true for you is ultimately true. 2. a sledgehammer. 3.… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Great genius takes shape by contact with another great genius, but, less by assimilation than by friction. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Lo, sleep is good, better is death--in sooth The best of all were never to be born. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Ordinarily he was insane, but he had lucid moments when he was merely stupid — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Every age has its problem, by solving which humanity is helped forward. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
The beauteous dragonfly's dancing By the waves of the rivulet glancing; She dances here and she dances there, The glimmering, glittering flutterer fair. Full… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
I am no longer a divine biped. I am no longer the freest German after Goethe, as Ruge named me in healthier days. I… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
First, I thought, almost despairing, This must crush my spirit now; Yet I bore it, and am bearing- Only do not ask me how. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
Nothing is more futile than theorizing about music. No doubt there are laws, mathematically strict laws, but these laws are not music; they are… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
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. — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
“Still is the night, it quiets the streets down, In that window my love would appear; She's long since gone away from this town,… — Heinrich Heine Copy Share Image
