He became quicker of movement than the other dogs, swifter of foot, craftier, deadlier, more lithe, more lean with ironlike muscle and sinew, more enduring, more cruel more ferocious, and more intelli...
Every book was a peep-hole into the realm of knowledge. His hunger fed upon what he read, and increased.
But nobody else ever romped with White Fang. He did not permit it. He stood on his dignity, and when they attempted it, his warning snarl and bristling mane were anything but playful. That he allowed...
You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
Hurts you. It is an everlasting pain in you, a wound that does not heal, a knife of flame.
You are metaphysicians. You can prove anything by metaphysics; and having done so, every metaphysician can prove every other metaphysician wrong—to his own satisfaction. You are anarchists in the real...
We took up a collection and sent a telegram to the authorities of that town. The text of the message was that eighty-five healthy, hungry hoboes would arrive about noon and that it would be a good ide...
Of her own experience she had no memory of the thing happening; but in her instinct, which was the experience of all mothers of wolves, there lurked a memory of fathers that had eaten their new-born a...
My mistake was in ever opening the books.
It was what should have been a bright summer day, but the smokefrom the burning world filled the sky, through which the sun shonemurkily, a dull and lifeless orb, blood-red and ominous.
Here was intellectual life, he thought, and here was beauty, warm and wonderful as he had never dreamed it could be. He forgot himself and stared at her with hungry eyes. Here was something to live fo...
He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.
He was not immoral, but merely unmoral.
He was disappointed in it all. He had developed into an alien. As the steam beer had tasted raw, so their companionship seemed raw to him. He was too far removed. Too many thousands of opened books ya...
He was a man without a past, whose future was the imminent grave and whose present was a bitter fever of living.
He must master or be mastered; while to show mercy was a weakness. Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death. Kill or be kill...
He led a lost cause, and he was not afraid of God's thunderbolts........hurled into hell, he was unbeaten. A third of God's angels he had led with him, and straightaway he incited man to rebel against...
He had been suddenly jerked from the heart of civilization and flung into the heart of things primordial.
Growth is life, and life is for ever destined to make for light.
Food and fire, protection and companionship, were some of the things he received from the god. In return, he guarded the god's property, defended his body, worked for him, and obeyed him.