Night

"Why do you cry when you pray?" he asked, as though he knew me well.

"I don't know," I answered, troubled.
I had never asked myself that question. I cried because... because something inside me felt the need to cry. That was all I knew.

"Why do you pray?" he asked after a moment.

Why did I pray? Strange question. Why did I live? Why did I breathe?

"I don't know," I told him, even more troubled and ill at ease. "I don't know."


Taken from Night by Elie Wiesel.