I've lost Poland. Without Poland, I go down. I've been thrown out; yet I love my country.
At first, one believes in love. Then one crosses a border, a border of time. Then that belief, too, is lost.
I can't dream about immortal fireflies, but I can fight for human freedom.
A writer without his country is nothing.
The road that led me to literature was very different from the one followed by my fellow writers in Poland.
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