I came to the conclusion that I am free to choose my own suffering. But I am not free to consent to someone else's suffering.

Naturally, the human being wants to forget pain.

It was the beginning of the war. I was twelve years old, my parents were alive, and God still dwelt in our town.

Night is purer than day; it is better for thinking and loving and dreaming.

Pain is essential. Often I cannot avoid it.Therefore all one can do is redeem it; and the only way to redeem it is through literature, art, poetry, music.

For nearly 3,500 years Exodus has left such an imprint on people's memories that I cannot imagine it had been invented just as a legend or a tale.

For the survivor who chooses to testify, it is clear: his duty is to bear witness for the dead and for the living. He has no right to deprive future generations of a past that belongs to our collective memory. To forget would be not only dangerous but offensive; to forget the dead would be akin to killing them a second time.