Writing Poetry After Auschwitz Is Barbaric.

He Who Stands Aloof Runs The Risk Of Believing Himself Better Than Others And Misusing His Critique Of Society As An Ideology For His Private Interest.

The Capacity For Fear And For Happiness Are The Same, The Unrestricted Openness To Experience Amounting To Self-abandonment In Which The Vanquished Rediscovers Himself.

Truth Is Inseperable From The Illusory Belief That From The Figures Of The Unreal One Day, In Spite Of All, Real Deliverance Will Come.

If Time Is Money, It Seems Moral To Save Time, Above All One's Own, And Such Parsimony Is Excused By Consideration For Others. One Is Straight-forward.

Estrangement Shows Itself Precisely In The Elimination Of Distance Between People.