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He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survive.

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
Thing
Survive
Unaided
Things
Lived
Triumphantly
Strength
Prowess
Environment
Predator
Virtue
Killer
Alone
Surviving
Living
Killers
Strong
Hostile
Preyed

More quotes by Jack London

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Man is a flux of states of consciousness, a flow of passing thoughts, each thought of self another self, a myriad thoughts, a myriad selves, a continual becoming but never being, a will-of-the-wisp flitting of ghosts in ghostland.
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Alcohol tells truth, but its truth is not normal.
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This expression of abandon and surrender, of absolute trust, he reserved for the master alone.
Jack London
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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.
Jack London
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My mistake was in ever opening the books.
Jack London
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The fortunate man is the one who cannot take more than a couple of drinks without becoming intoxicated. The unfortunate wight is the one who can take many glasses without betraying a sign who must take numerous glasses in order to get the ‘kick’.
Jack London
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Denied the outlet, through play, of his energies, he recoiled upon himself and developed his mental processes. He became cunning he had idle time in which to devote himself to thoughts of trickery.
Jack London
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You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
Jack London
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But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called -- called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.
Jack London
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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.
Jack London
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He was not immoral, but merely unmoral.
Jack London
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The Law is a lie, and through it men lie most shamelessly.
Jack London
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Love, genuine passionate love, was his for the first time.
Jack London
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Not all the monsters have fangs.
Jack London
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Don't write too much. Concentrate your sweat on one story, rather than dissipate it over a dozen.
Jack London
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Then one can't make a living out of poetry? Certainly not. What fool expects to? Out of rhyming, yes.
Jack London
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He was justifying his existence, than which life can do no greater for life achieves its summit when it does to the uttermost that which it was equipped to do.
Jack London
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I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
Jack London
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And not only did he learn by experience, but instincts long dead became alive again. The domesticated generations fell from him. In vague ways he remembered back to the youth of the breed, to the time the wild dogs ranged in packs through the primeval forest and killed their meat as they ran it down.
Jack London
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You stand on dead men's legs. You've never had any of your own. You couldn't walk alone between two sunrises and hustle the meat for your belly
Jack London