Isaac Bashevis Singer Quotes

No doubt the world is entirely an imaginary world,
but it is only once removed from the true world. At the
door of the hovel where I lie, there stands the plank on
which the dead are taken away. The gravedigger Jew
has his spade ready. The grave waits and the worms are
hungry; the shrouds are prepared-! carry them in my
beggar's sack. Another shnorrer is waiting to inherit my
bed of straw. When the time comes I will go joyfully.
Whatever may be there, it will be real, without complication,
without ridicule, without deception. God be
praised: there even Gimpel cannot be deceived.

I know as a writer how valuable a tool is the wastebasket. Perhaps God throws away many experiments before He finds the right expression. Perhaps we are the discards — or we could be the part He keeps. This mystery is what keeps us all going, to see what happens in the next chapter.

literature can very well describe the absurd, but it should never become absurd itself

One prays for life , life means free choice and freedom is mystery . If one knew the truth how could there be freedom

The latter was in praise of the virtuous wife, rarer than a pearl.

The analysis of character is the highest human entertainment.

No doubt the world is entirely an imaginary world, but it is only once removed from the true world.

We must believe in free will. We have no choice.

For those who are willing to make an effort, great miracles and wonderful treasures are in store.

I started to "write" even before I knew the alphabet. I would dip a pen in ink and scribble. I also liked to draw — horses, houses, dogs. The Sabbath was an ordeal for me, because it is forbidden to write on that day.

From microbe to man, life prevailed generation to generation by sneaking past the jealous powers of destruction. Just like the Tzivkever smugglers in World War I, who stuffed their boots and blouses with tobacco, secreted all manner of contraband about their bodies, and stole across borders, breaking laws and bribing officials — so did every bit of protoplasm furtively traffic its way from epoch to epoch. It had been so when the first bacteria appeared in the slime at the ocean's edge and would be so when the sun became a cinder and the last living creature on earth froze to death, or perished in whichever way the final biological drama dictated. Animals had accepted the precariousness of existence and the necessity for flight and stealth; only man sought certainty and instead succeeded in accomplishing his own downfall.

But what about the creatures whose flesh he's carrying there? A few days ago they were alive. They too have souls. They too are God’s children. They were quite possibly made of better material than human beings. Since they were sinless, they were certainly more innocent. But day after day they are ritually sacrificed-angels in the shape of oxen, calves, sheep. I once wanted to become a vegetarian. I wanted everything-and I never got further than wanting.

"What concrete steps can I take now?" I asked the voice, and it replied: "Go to a house of prayer and pray."
"Without faith?" I countered, and the voice said: "You have more faith than you know."

I believe in God but people are liars. It's those people who say they are appointed by God who I don't believe in.

إذا كان الإله حكيمًا فكيف تكون هناك حماقة؟ وإذا كان الإله هو الحياة فكيف يكون هناك موت؟ إني أرقد بالليل، رجل ضئيل، ذبابة نصف مسحوقة وأتحدث إلى الأموات وإلى الأحياء، وإلى الإله إن كان موجودًا، وإلى الشيطان الموجود يقينًا وأسألهم: ما الحاجة إلى كل هذا ؟