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And he couldn't do it. He could not fucking die. How could he leave? How could he go? Everything he hated was here.

— Philip Roth Sabbath's Theater (1995)

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More quotes by Philip Roth

Is an intelligent human being likely to be much more than a large-scale manufacturer of misunderstanding?

The Counterlife (1986)

The road to hell is paved with works-in-progress.

I am a theater and nothing more than a theater.

The Counterlife (1986)

I write fiction and I’m told it’s autobiography, I write autobiography and I’m told it’s fiction, so since I’m so dim and they’re so smart, let them decide what it is or it isn’t.

Deception: A Novel (1990)

When you publish a book, it’s the world’s book. The world edits it.

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: Philip Roth (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.