Daily Inspiration Quote by Isaac Bashevis Singer

Singer’s promise of “great miracles and wonderful treasures” sounds like a pep talk until you notice the toll gate: “for those who are willing to make an effort.” He frames wonder not as a random lightning strike but as a dividend paid to the stubborn. That conditional clause is the whole moral universe of his fiction in miniature: fate may hover overhead, mysticism may be real, God may be silent or chatty, but the human being still has to show up and strain.

The phrase “make an effort” is almost comically modest next to “miracles.” Singer likes that mismatch. It’s a sly rebuke to both modern cynicism and cheap spiritual optimism. You don’t get to sneer at the possibility of transcendence and you don’t get to claim it without sweat. In his stories, the miraculous often arrives through the most unglamorous channels: routine obligations, erotic entanglements, guilt, hunger, migration. “Treasures” are rarely jewels; they’re the bruising knowledge you earn by choosing, failing, choosing again.

Context matters: a Yiddish novelist writing in the shadow of European catastrophe, Singer understood that “miracles” can’t be the naive kind. His work is crowded with survivors, skeptics, saints, and opportunists, all negotiating a world where the old certainties cracked. The line reads as a survival ethic disguised as hope: effort is the one agency left when history becomes merciless. The treasure isn’t guaranteed happiness. It’s the possibility that meaning still can be made, but only by those willing to pay for it in attention, discipline, and risk.