I told her that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me was all the saints I met almost anywhere, people who were behaving decently in an indecent society.
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. (1922-2007) American novelist, journalist
Letter (1992-10-16) to Robert Maslansky
(Source)
Phrases used in a number of places by Vonnegut, often as his reply when a woman wrote him to ask if it were right to bring a child into a world as bad as this one; he then encouraged his readers or listeners to become a saint for that child. He also used the phrase to describe the underlying theme of his writing.
Other variants:I replied that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me was the saints I met, people behaving unselfishly and capably. They turned up in the most unexpected places.
[Timequake, ch. 62 (1997)]I replied that what made living almost worthwhile for me were the saints I met. They could be anywhere. They were people who behaved decently in an indecent society.
[Kevin Alexander Bacon, ed., At Millennium's End: New Essays on the Work of Kurt Vonnegut, Foreword (1998-11-11) (2001)]What makes life worth living are the saints I meet -- they can be long-time friends or someone I meet on a street. They find a way to behave decently in an indecent society.
["Vonnegut Unbound," Interview by Christopher R. Blazejewski, The Harvard Crimson (2000-05-12)]I replied that what made being alive almost worthwhile for me, besides music, was all the saints I met, who could be anywhere. By saints I meant people who behaved decently in a strikingly indecent society.
[Lecture (2003-09-22), University of Wisconsin, Madison; reprinted in "Knowing What's Nice," In These Times (2003-11-06)]What makes life worth living are the saints. You meet saints everywhere. They can be anywhere. They are people behaving decently in an indecent society.
[Frequently quoted version]
Quotations about:
unselfishness
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If you asked twenty good men today what they thought the highest of the virtues, nineteen of them would reply, Unselfishness. But if you asked almost any of the great Christians of old he would have replied, Love. You see what has happened? A negative term has been substituted for a positive, and this is of more than philological importance. The negative ideal of Unselfishness carries with it the suggestion not primarily of securing good things for others, but of going without them ourselves, as if our abstinence and not their happiness was the important point. I do not think this is the Christian virtue of Love.