Auschwitz is outside of us, but it is all around us, in the air. The plague has died away, but the infection still lingers and it would be foolish to deny it. Rejection of human solidarity, obtuse and cynical indifference to the suffering of others, abdication of the intellect and of moral sense to the principle of authority, and above all, at the root of everything, a sweeping tide of cowardice, a colossal cowardice which masks itself as warring virtue, love of country and faith in an idea.

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

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

Perhaps Kafka laughed when he told stories [. . . ] because one isn't always equal to oneself.

I am constantly amazed by man's inhumanity to man.

It is the duty of righteous men to make war on all undeserved privilege, but one must not forget that this is a war without end.

Man is a centaur, a tangle of flesh and mind, divine inspiration and dust.