I am not even alive enough to know how to kill myself

Imagine now a man who is deprived of everyone he loves, and at the same time of his house, his habits, his clothes, in short, of everything he possesses: he will be a hollow man, reduced to suffering and needs, forgetful of dignity and restraint, for he who loses all often loses himself.

There is Auschwitz, and so there cannot be God.

The living are more demanding; the dead can wait.

At that time I had not yet been taught the doctrine I was later to learn so hurriedly in the Lager: that man is bound to pursue his own ends by all possible means, while he who errs but once pays dearly

If a writer is convinced that he is honest, then it is very difficult for him to be a bad writer.

Each of us bears the imprint of a friend met along the way; In each the trace of each.