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" In the early dawn light, I tried to distinguish between the living and those who were no more. But there was barely a difference. My gaze remained fixed on someone who, eyes wide open, stared into space. His colorless face was covered with a layer of frost and snow." (Wiesel #98)
"My son, they are beating me!" (Wiesel #109)
“And so he remained for more than half an hour, lingering between life and death, writhing before our eyes. And we were forced to look at him t close range. He was still alive when I passed him. His tongue was still red, his eyes not extinguished. (pg#Wiesel65)
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