“The iron fettering on the gate read "Arbeit Macht Frei"."What do you think that means?" asked a man from behind them in line."Abandon hope all ye who enter here," replied Alexander."No," said Misnoy. "It means, 'Work will set you free,'""Like I was saying."Misnoy laughed. "This must be a Class One camp. For political prisoners. Probably Sachsenhausen. In Buchenwald, the engraving didn't say that. It was for more serious, more permanent offenders.""Like you?""Like me." He smiled pleasantly. "Buchenwald read, 'Jeden das Seine. To Each His Own.'""The Germans are so fucking inspiring," said Alexander.”

“Satirists, be careful. In the 1931 film by Rene Clair “Vive la Liberte” a song says, “Work is freedom.” In 1940 the sign on the gates to Auschwitz said: “Arbeit macht frei.”

“Written over the gate here are the words 'Leave every hope behind, ye who enter.' Only think what a relief that is! For what is hope? A form of moral responsibility. Here there is no hope, and consequently no duty, no work, nothing to be gained by praying, nothing to be lost by doing what you like. Hell, in short is a place where you have nothing to do but amuse yourself.”

“... I'm the fortieth-ugliest man in this bar. But so what! So what! What if someday she lets me kiss each one of her freckles again? She has like a million. But every one of them means something to me. Isn't this how people used to fall in love? I know we're living in Rubenstein's America, like you keep saying. But doesn't that just make us even more responsible for each other's fates? I mean, what if Eunice and I just said no to all this. To this bar. To this FACing. The two of us. What if we just went home and read books to each other?”

“Men who read a lot have a more sensitive disposition, added Fowler. [...]I did not know what to say to this.Maybe reading is a sort of curse is all I mean, concluded Fowler. Maybe it's better for a man to stay inside his own mind.Amen, I felt like saying, although I do not know why.”

“Mr. Nath and I talked further about the pilgrimage. Examining his hand he said, 'I wonder what it will look like after I finish this pilgrimage.'What do you mean?' I asked. 'Do you expect this pilgrimage to change your hand?'It must,' he replied. 'This pilgrimage changes one's life. The change must be evident in the lines of one's hands.”