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It is an altogether wrong idea that the modern product of civilization is less susceptible to love. I sometimes think it is the other way.

Henryk Sienkiewicz

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Henryk Sienkiewicz
Age: 70 †
Born: 1846
Born: May 5
Died: 1916
Died: November 15
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Litwos
Henryk Adam Aleksander Pius Sienkiewicz
Way
Products
Love
Civilization
Think
Modern
Thinking
Wrong
Less
Idea
Susceptible
Ideas
Altogether
Sometimes
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I consider that in dialectics I am the equal of Socrates. As to women, I agree that each has three or four souls, but none of them a reasoning one.
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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.
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Day is like day as two beads in a rosary, unless changes of weather form the only variety.
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An excessive preponderance of an idealistic mood is harmful to society: it creates daydreaming, political Don Quixotism, hope for heavenly intervention. This is an undeniable truth--but it is also true that every extreme is harmful.
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There is within us a moral instinct which forbids us to rejoice at the death of even an enemy.
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Anxiety prepares the organism badly for an ordeal which even under more favorable circumstances would not be an easy thing to bear.
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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.
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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.
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The profession of the writer has its thorns about which the reader does not dream.
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On an exhausted field, only weeds grow.
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The fact is that between the classes there is a vast gulf that precludes all mutual understanding, and makes simultaneous efforts simply impossible.
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I know that even the meanest person has still at his disposition high-sounding words wherewith to mask his real character.
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A man who leaves memoirs, whether well or badly written, provided they be sincere, renders a service to future psychologists and writers, giving them not only a faithful picture, but likewise human documents that may be relied upon.
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England is never in a hurry because she is eternal.
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I go to church because I am a skeptic in regard to my own skepticism.
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The shots had dispersed the birds there remained only two marabous, standing between ten and twenty paces away and plunged in reverie. They were like two old men with bald heads pressed between the shoulders.
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Amid the stillness of the night, in the depths of the ravine, from the direction in which the corpses lay suddenly resounded a kind of inhuman, frightful laughter in which quivered despair, and joy, and cruelty, and suffering, and pain, and sobbing, and derision the heart-rending and spasmodic laughter of the insane or condemned.
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My position is such that there is no necessity for me to enter into competition with struggling humanity. As to expensive and ruinous pleasures, I am a sceptic who knows how much they are worth, or rather, knows that they are not worth anything.
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In the meantime the groans changed into the protracted, thunderous roar by which all living creatures are struck with terror, and the nerves of people, who do not know what fear is, shake, just as the window-panes rattle from distant cannonading.
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If the infinity of the sea may call out thus, perhaps when a man is growing old, calls come to him, too, from another infinity still darker and more deeply mysterious and the more he is wearied by life the dearer are those calls to him.
Henryk Sienkiewicz