340 Quotes by Heinrich Heine

Don’t send a poet to London.

Good Luck is a giddy maid, Fickle and restless as a fawn; She smooths your hair; and then the jade Kisses you quickly, and is gone.

The night comes stealing o’er me, And clouds are on the sea; While the wavelets rustle before me With a mystical melody.

So long as my heart is full of love and the heads of my fellow-men are full of folly, I shall never lack something to write about.

Sweet May hath come to love us, Flowers, trees, their blossoms don; And through the blue heavens above us The very clouds move on.

With the rose the butterfly’s deep in love, A thousand times hovering round; But round himself, all tender like gold, The sun’s sweet ray is hovering found.

Like a great poet, nature knows how to produce the greatest effects with the utmost economy of means: nothing but sun, trees, flowers, water, and love. Of course, if the latter is absent from the beholder’s heart, the whole landscape will be an unpleasing sight; then the sun is merely so many miles in diameter, and the trees provide good firewood, and the flowers are classified according to the number of their stamens, and the water is wet.

Man, – the aristocrat amongst the animals.

For the Greeks, beauty is truth; for the Hebrews, truth is beauty.