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

The sea's only gifts are harsh blows and, occasionally, the chance to feel strong.

We will not return No one must leave here and so carry to the world, together with the sign impressed on his skin, the evil tidings of what man's presumption made of man in Auschwitz

Our ignorance allowed us to live, as you are in the mountains, and your rope is frayed and about to break, but you don't know it and feel safe.

I too entered the Lager as a nonbeliever, and as a nonbeliever I was liberated and have lived to this day.

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

I live in my house as I live inside my skin: I know more beautiful, more ample, more sturdy and more picturesque skins: but it would seem to me unnatural to exchange them for mine.