After Auschwitz, I no longer cry at funerals.

I'm not alive. People believe memories grow vague, are erased by time, since nothing endures against the passage of time. That's the difference time does not pass over me, over us. It doesn't erase anything, doesn't undo it. I'm not a live. I died in Auschwitz but no one knows it.

I died in Auschwitz, but no one knows it