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1 " So yesterday the high-ranking visitors came after all. . . H[immler} at their head. A slight, insignificant-looking little man, with a rather good-humored face. High peaked cap, mustache, and small spectacles. I think: If you wanted to trace back all the misery and horror to just one person, it would have to be him. Around him a lot of fellows with weary faces. Very big, heavily dressed men, they swerve along whichever way he turns, like a swarm of flies, changing places among themselves (they don't stand still for a moment) and moving like a single whole. It makes a fatally alarming impression. (January 30, 1944) "
― David Koker , At the Edge of the Abyss: A Concentration Camp Diary, 1943-1944
2 " Nooit heb ik zo beseft, hoe zwak, hoe afhankelijk ik ben, hoe zonder eigen inhoud. Ik ben een instrument dat luid gaat klinken bij één vleug van wind, maar weerloos blijft en zonder eigen kracht wanneer de dagen windstil zijn en doods. "
