Quotes from Elie Wiesel

From the depths of the mirror, a corpse gazed back at me. The look in his eyes, as they stared into mine, has never left me.

There is a difference between a book of two hundred pages from the very beginning, and a book of two hundred pages, which is the result of an original eight hundred pages. The six hundred pages are there. Only you don't see them.

I was inspired by the marvelous example of Giacometti, the great sculptor. He always said that his dream was to do a bust so small that it could enter a matchbook, but so heavy that no one could lift it. That's what a good book should be.

God made man because He loves stories.

It is not always events that have touched us personally that affect us the most.

I did not deny God's existence, but I doubted his absolute justice.

You're at the bottom of the mountain. May you climb up without suffering.

In those dark times, one rose to the very heights of humanity by simply remaining human.

In the beginning was belief, foolish belief, and faith, empty faith, and illusion, the terrible illusion. ... We believed in God, had faith in man, and lived with the illusion that in each one of us is a sacred spark from the fire of the shekinah, that each one carried in his eyes and in his soul the sign of God. This was the source—if not the cause—of all our misfortune.

Anything you want to say about God you better make sure you can say in front of a pit of burning babies.

We must take sides. Neutrality helps the oppressor, never the victim. Silent encourages the tormentor, never the tormented.

Human rights are being violated on every continent. More people are oppressed than free. How can one not be sensitive to their plight? Human suffering anywhere concerns men and women everywhere.

The silence of two people is deeper than the silence of one.

Had the situation not been so tragic, we might have laughed.

For the good of all, I say: Be careful, the brutality of the world must not be more powerful or attractive than love and friendship.

It was the beginning of the war. I was twelve years old, my parents were alive, and God still dwelt in our town.

How can one explain the attraction terror holds for some minds — and why for intellectuals? . . .In a totalitarian and terrorist regime, man is no longer a unique being with infinite possibilities and limitless choices but a number, a puppet, with just this difference — numbers and puppets are not susceptible to fear.

What is man? Dust turned to hope.

Those who know don't talk and those who talk don't know.

But the forces of evil have not abdicated. The malevolent ghosts of hatred are resurgent with a fury and a boldness that are as astounding as they are nauseating: ethnic conflicts, religious riots, anti-Semitic incidents here, there, and everywhere. What is wrong with these morally degenerate people that they abuse their freedom, so recently won?

Humanity would never tolerate it

I learned that man lives differently, depending on whether he is in a horizontal or vertical position. The shadows on the walls, on the faces, are not the same.

The only wealth I'm interested in is a wealth of words.

Man prefers to blame himself for all possible sins and crimes rather than come to the conclusion that God is capable of the most flagrant injustice. I still blush every time I think of the way God makes fun of human beings, his favorite toys.