Dangling Man

by Saul Bellow

I am somewhat afraid of the vanity of thinking that I can make my own way toward clarity. But it is even more important to know whether I can claim the right to preserve myself in this flood of death that has carried off so many like me, muffling them and bearing them down and down, minds untried and sinews useless—so much debris. It is appropriate to ask whether I have any business withholding myself from the same fate.” “And the answer?” “I recall Spinoza’s having written that no virtue could be considered greater than that of trying to preserve oneself.” “At all costs, oneself?” “You don’t get it. Oneself. He didn’t say one’s life. He said oneself. You see the difference?”