There is no Sixth Commandment in art. The poet is entitled to lay his hands on whatever material he finds necessary for his work.

God will pardon me. It is His trade.

I consider it a degradation and a stain on my honor to submit to baptism in order to qualify myself for state employment in Prussia.

A brainiac notices everything, an ignoramus comments about everything.

Oh, they loved dearly: their souls kissed, they kissed with their eyes, they were both but one single kiss.

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

God will forgive me. It's his job." Heine said this on his deathbed (1856). Hilarious. He must have thought that up years before and counted the seconds to use it.