Isaac Bashevis Singer Quotes

For death is not the worst, but when one wants to die and is not able even to have that.

They that die by famine die by inches.

Death is the ultimate enemy - and I find nothing reproachable in those who rage mightily against the dying of the light.

A martyr can never cooperate with death, go to death in a way that they're not trying to escape.

Do not go gentle into that good night but rage, rage against the dying of the light.

The road to freedom has always been stalked by death.

To the last moment of his breath, On hope the wretch relies; And even the pang preceding death Bids expectation rise.

God seemed to be having a hard time killing him, and he'd be damned if he was going to make the job easy for mere mortals

Against you I will fling myself, unvanquished and unyielding, O Death!

Once released from life, having lost it in such violence, I couldn’t calculate my steps. I didn’t have time for contemplation. In violence it is the getting out that you concentrate on. When you begin to go over the edge, life receding from you as a boat recedes inevitably from the shore, you hold on to death tightly, like a rope that will transport you, and you swing out on it, hoping to land away from where you are.

What are you gonna do? Kill me? Everybody dies.

But death doesn't scare me. To know exactly when I might expect it, up close and in my face, would actually be a comfort. Because to tell the truth, most of the time dying seems pretty much like my only means of escape.

I swear that I'm dying slowly but it's happening, and if the perfect spring is waiting somewhere... just take me there.

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them?

We fight to keep something alive rather than in the expectation that anything will triumph.

I wonder about death, I who may never know it. It looks much like ecstacy, the way they open their mouths as they drown, the way their fingers dig into your skin. Their eyes are wide and startled and they trash in your hands as though with an excess of passion.

Don't surrender to the dying light; don't take it lying down.

Does it hurt very much to die? Well, sweetheart, yes, but it hurts a lot more to keep living.

The end is near. I hear a noise at the door, as of some immense slippery body lumbering against it. It shall not find me. God, that hand! The window! The window!

Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you, undo this button.

Then die. We must all do that. But die, as they say, game.

Come, Death, and snatch me from disgrace.

We each owe a death, there are no exceptions, I know that, but sometimes, oh God, the Green Mile is so long.