I Think That Is The Big Danger

I Do Not Believe In God; His Existence Has Been Disproved By Science. But In The Concentration Camp, I Learned To Believe In Men.

I Receive Letters From Workers, From Secretaries. . . . They Are The Most Interesting Ones.

The For-itself, In Fact, Is Nothing But The Pure Nihilation Of The In-itself; It Is Like A Hole Of Being At The Heart Of Being.

To Keep Hope Alive One Must, In Spite Of All Mistakes, Horrors, And Crimes, Recognize The Obvious Superiority Of The Socialist Camp.

That Is Exactly The Writer's Problem. What Does Literature Stand For In A Hungry World?