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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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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
Enough
Knew
Word
Language
Gnawing
Pain
Exceeded
Desire
Vengeance
Hate
Describe
Strong
Bounds
Feelings
Weak

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I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
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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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Pray do not interrupt me, he wrote. I am smiling.
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His conclusion was that things were not always what they appeared to be. The cub's fear of the unknown was an inherited distrust, and it had now been strengthened by experience. Thenceforth, in the nature of things, he would possess an abiding distrust of appearances.
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Men do not knowingly drink for the effect alcohol produces on the body. What they drink for is the brain-effect and if it must come through the body, so much the worse for the body.
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A bone to the dog is not charity. Charity is the bone shared with the dog, when you are just as hungry as the dog.
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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.
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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.
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I did not begin when I was born, nor when I was conceived. I have been growing, developing, through incalculable myriads of millenniums... All my previous selves have their voices, echoes, promptings in me... Oh, incalculable times again shall I be born.
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His bondage had softened him. Irresponsibility had weakened him. He had forgotten how to shift for himself. The night yawned about him.
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more you drink more you want
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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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The Stone the Builders Rejected.
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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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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 intelligent. He had to become all these things, else he would not have held his own nor survived the hostile environment in which he found himself.
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The great task demanded of man is reproduction. He is urged by passion to perform this task. Passion, working through the imagination, produces love. Passion is the impelling factor, imagination the disturbing factor and the disturbance of passion by imagination produces love.
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A man with a club is a law-maker.
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Life is so short. I would rather sing one song than interpret the thousand.
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A good joke will sell quicker than a good poem, and, measured in sweat and blood, will bring better remuneration.
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Buck did not read the newspapers, or he would have known that trouble was brewing, not alone for himself, but for every tide-water dog, strong of muscle and with warm, long hair, from Puget Sound to San Diego.
Jack London