Tatiana de Rosnay Quotes

Zakhor. Al Tichkah. Remember. Never forget.

When would he realize that it wasn't his infidelity I couldn't bear, but his cowardice?

You're playing with Pandora's box. Sometimes it's better not to open it. Sometimes, it's better not to know.

The girl wondered: These policemen... didn't they have families, too? Didn't they have children? Children they went home to? How could they treat children this way? Were they told to do so, or did they act this way naturally? Were they in fact machines, not human beings? She looked closely at them. They seemed of flesh and bone. They were men. She couldn't understand.

You get attached to places, you know. Like people, I suppose.

She couldn't imagine why there was such a difference between those children and her. She couldn't imagine why she and all these other people with her had to be treated this way. Who decided this, and what for?

The more I read, the hungrier I become. Each book seemed promising, each page I turned offered an escapade, the allure of another world, other destinies, other dreams.

And so I write this for you, My Sarah. With the hope that one day, when you’re old enough, this story that lives with me, will live with you as well. When a story is told, it is not forgotten. It becomes something else, a memory of who we were; the hope of what we can become.

Michel. In my dreams, you come and get me. You take me by the hand and you lead me away. This life is too much for me to bear. I look at the key and I long for you and for the past. For the innocent, easy days before the war. I know now my scars will never heal. I hope my son will forgive me. He will never know. No one will ever know.

It is not easy to explain how I felt while I read, but I will try. No doubt you, as a reader, will understand. It appeared I found myself in a place where no one could bother me, where no one could reach me. I grew impervious to all the noises around me.

How was it possible that entire lives could change, could be destroyed, and that streets and buildings remained the same, she wondered.

I wanted to say sorry, I wanted to tell her I could not forget the roundup, the camp, Michel's death, and the direct train to Auschwitz that had taken her parents away forever. Sorry for what? he had retaliated, why should I, an American, feel sorry, hadn't my fellow countrymen freed France in June 1944? I had nothing to be sorry for, he laughed. I had looked at him straight in the eyes. Sorry for not knowing. Sorry for being forty-five years old and not knowing.

You know what I find most shocking about the Vel'd'Hiv?" Guillaume said. "Its code name." I knew the answer to that, thanks to my extensive reading. Operation Spring Breeze, " I murmured.

I wanted to cry, but the tears did not come.

I think they're really linked. I think books and movies are going to go a long way together in the future. I think we writers are very important material for directors.