Perfection Belongs To Narrated Events, Not To

After The Planet Becomes Theirs, Many Millions Of Years Will Have To Pass Before A Beetle Particularly Loved By God, At The End Of Its Calculations Will Find Written On A Sheet Of Paper In Letters Of Fire That Energy Is Equal To The Mass Multiplied By The Square Of The Velocity Of Light. The New Kings Of The World Will Live Tranquilly For A Long Time, Confining Themselves To Devouring Each Other And Being Parasites Among Each Other On A Cottage Industry Scale.

The Trade Of Chemist (fortified, In My Case, By The Experience Of Auschwitz), Teaches You To Overcome, Indeed To Ignore, Certain Revulsions That Are Neither Necessary Or Congenital: Matter Is Matter, Neither Noble Nor Vile, Infinitely Transformable, And Its Proximate Origin Is Of No Importance Whatsoever. Nitrogen Is Nitrogen, It Passes Miraculously From The Air Into Plants, From These Into Animals, And From Animals Into Us; When Its Function In Our Body Is Exhausted, We Eliminate It, But It Still Remains Nitrogen, Aseptic, Innocent.

To Give A Name To A Thing Is As Gratifying As Giving A Name To An Island, But It Is Also Dangerous: The Danger Consists In One's Becoming Convinced That All Is Taken Care Of And That Once Named, The Phenomenon Has Also Been Explained.

To Destroy A Man Is Difficult, Almost As Difficult As To Create One: It Has Not Been Easy, Nor Quick, But You Germans Have Succeeded. Here We Are, Docile Under Your Gaze; From Our Side You Have Nothing More To Fear; No Acts Of Violence, No Words Of Defiance, Not Even A Look Of Judgment.

Even In This Place One Can Survive, And Therefore One Must Want To Survive, To Tell The Story, To Bear Witness; And That To Survive We Must Force Ourselves To Save At Least The Skeleton, The Scaffolding, The Form Of Civilization. We Are Slaves, Deprived Of Every Right, Exposed To Every Insult, Condemned To Certain Death, But We Still Possess One Power, And We Must Defend It With All Our Strength For It Is The Last — The Power To Refuse Our Consent.