What A Sad Story, I Thought For

Desires, Memories, Fears, Passions Form Labyrinths In Which We Lose And Find And Then Lose Ourselves Again.

What Should Our Second Generation Have Done, What Should It Do With The Knowledge Of The Horrors Of The Extermination Of The Jews? We Should Not Believe We Can Comprehend The Incomprehensible, We May Not Compare The Incomparable, We May Not Inquire Because To Inquire Is To Make The Horrors An Object Of Discussion, Even If The Horrors Themselves Are Not Questioned, Instead Of Accepting Them As Something In The Face Of Which We Can Only Fall Silent In Revulsion, Shame And Guilt. Should We Only Fall Silent In Revulsion, Shame And Guilt? To What Purpose?

There's This Old Saying That, If You Aren't Particularly Gifted In Natural Sciences, If You Don't Want To Become A Teacher Or Pastor Or Doctor, And Don't Know What Else To Do, Then You Become A Lawyer. But I've Never Regretted It.

I Thought That If The Right Time Gets Missed, If One Has Refused Or Been Refused Something For Too Long, It's Too Late, Even If It Is Finally Tackled With Energy And Received With Joy. Or Is There No Such Thing As "too Late"? Is There Only "late," And Is "late" Always Better Than "never"? I Don't Know.

Why Does What Was Beautiful Shatter In Hindsight Because It Concealed Dark Truths?