On an exhausted field, only weeds grow.
Evidently the merit depends on the result of the work.
The profession of the writer has its thorns about which the reader does not dream.
Day is like day as two beads in a rosary, unless changes of weather form the only variety.
There is within us a moral instinct which forbids us to rejoice at the death of even an enemy.
It has been said that Poland is dead, exhausted, enslaved, but here is the proof of her life and triumph.
The sky is one whole, the water another; and between those two infinities the soul of man is in loneliness.
Not death is before you, but life; not tortures, but endless delights; not tears and groans, but singing; not bondage, but rule!
This homage has been rendered not to me - for the Polish soil is fertile and does not lack better writers than me - but to the Polish achievement, the Polish genius.
But the French writers always had more originality and independence than others, and that regulator, which elsewhere was religion, long since ceased to exist for them.