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But under it all they were men, penetrating the land of desolation and mockery and silence, puny adventurers bent on colossal adventure, pitting themselves against the might of a world as remote and alien and pulseless as the abysses of space.

Jack London

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Jack London
Age: 40 †
Born: 1876
Born: January 12
Died: 1916
Died: November 22
Author
Autobiographer
Diarist
Essayist
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Prosaist
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
San Francisco County
California
John Griffith Chaney
John Griffith Jack London
John Griffith Chaney London
John Griffith Jack London Chaney
Space
Remote
Abysses
Might
Alien
Adventurers
Men
Abyss
Puny
World
Bent
Penetrating
Aliens
Adventurer
Adventure
Desolation
Silence
Colossal
Land
Mockery
Pitting

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Everything is good . . . as long as it is unpossessed. Satiety and possession are Death's horses they run in span.
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In a saturated population life is always cheap.
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I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot.
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The Stone the Builders Rejected.
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Mental or spiritual health, which is rationality, makes for progress, and the future demands greater and greater mental or spiritual health, greater and greater rationality. The brain must dominate and direct both the individual and society in the time to come, not the belly and the heart.
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Ever bike? Now that's something that makes life worth living!
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Pray do not interrupt me, he wrote. I am smiling.
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He felt strangely numb. As though from a great distance, he was aware that he was being beaten. The last sensations of pain left him. He no longer felt anything, though very faintly he could hear the impact of the club upon his body. But it was no longer his body, it seemed so far away.
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For the pride of trace and trail was his, and sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work.
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Love, genuine passionate love, was his for the first time.
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They were not half living, or quarter living. They were simply so many bags of bones in which sparks of life fluttered faintly.
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The Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.
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Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past.
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No I did not hate him. The word is too weak. There is no word in the language strong enough to describe my feelings. I can say only that I knew the gnawing of a desire for vengeance on him that was a pain in itself and that exceeded all the bounds of language.
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It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life. It was the Wild, the savage, frozen-hearted Northland Wild. (Ch.1)
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You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
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Darn the wheel of the world! Why must it continually turn over? Where is the reverse gear?
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There is such a thing as anaesthesia of pain, engendered by pain too exquisite to be borne.
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The Law is a lie, and through it men lie most shamelessly.
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Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.
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