On my first visit to the Berlin Jewish Museum in August 2011, after walking along the zigzags and through the voids, I felt the need "to link" and, like the Museum's so many physical bridges, to re-establish connections between the fragmented realities that had been displayed in front of my eyes. When exiting from the Holocaust Tower, thinking of Derrida's "[d]eep down, deep down inside, the eye would be destined not to see but to weep", I experienced what the French philosopher called "the truth of the eyes, whose ultimate destination they would thereby reveal".¹ Thus, the tears that veiled my sight also unveiled what is proper to the eye.