The proper function of man is to live not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.
And at the instant he knew, he ceased to know.
However, he was happy. He felt he was conquering nature. He laughed aloud. He felt he was stronger than the elements. In this type of weather animals hid in their holes and did not come out. He was ou...
He wastes his time over his writing, trying to accomplish what geniuses and rare men with college educations sometimes accomplish.
I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me. I write a book for no other reason than to add three or four hundred acres to my magnificent estate.
There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetful...
Had the cub thought in man-fashion, he might have epitomized life as a voracious appetite, and the world as a place wherein ranged a multitude of appetites, pursuing and being pursued, hunting and bei...
I am a sick man - oh, not my body. It is my soul, my brain. I seem to have lost all values. I care for nothing. If you had been this way a few months ago, it would have been different. It is too late,...
…and from that moment Buck hated him with a bitter and deathless hatred.
Who are you, Martin Eden? he demanded of himself in the looking- glass, that night when he got back to his room. He gazed at himself long and curiously. Who are you? What are you? Where do you belong?...
There were not words enough in the English language, nor in any language, to make his attitude and conduct intelligible to them.
I have indeed lived life in a very rough school and have seen more than the average man's share of inhumanity and cruelty, from the forecastle and the prison, the slum and the desert, the execution-ch...
But the world now seemed changed. He went about in it with greater confidence, with a feeling of prowess that had not been his in the days before the battle. He had looked upon life in a more ferociou...
It was an old song, old as the breed itself - one of the first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad.
He had come to know quite thoroughly the world in which he lived. His outlook was bleak and materialistic. The world as he saw it was a fierce and brutal world, a world without warmth, a world in whic...
Class supremacy can rest only on class degradation
Also, as I looked at the mite of a youth with the heart of a lion, I thought, this is the type that on occasion rears barricades and shows the world that men have not forgotten how to die.
All my reading and studying of them has taught me that law is one thing and right is another thing. Ask any lawyer.
I am first of all a white man, and only then a socialist.
It is far easier to see brave men die than to hear a coward beg for life.