There is within us a moral instinct which forbids us to rejoice at the death of even an enemy.

The fact is that between the classes there is a vast gulf that precludes all mutual understanding, and makes simultaneous efforts simply impossible.

In the presence of the storm, thunderbolts, hurricane, rain, darkness, and the lions, which might be concealed but a few paces away, he felt disarmed and helpless.

It has been said that Poland is dead, exhausted, enslaved, but here is the proof of her life and triumph.

On an exhausted field, only weeds grow.

England is never in a hurry because she is eternal.

There is probably no greater idler than myself. And I would consider myself a lazy-bones if I did not write so many volumes, and if I did not admire my diligence once I begin writing.