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So that was the way. No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you.

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
Way
Fairs
Fair
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Alcohol tells truth, but its truth is not normal.
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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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Ever bike? Now that's something that makes life worth living!
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. . . and God knows we are sensitive to the suffering that has sometimes broken loose to come billowing forth from your appendages like the pungent vapors of whales - often it appears that in this life of experience and accommodation we pay just as dearly for our triumphs as we do for our defeats. But Sissy . . . hold on!
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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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I do not live for what the world thinks of me, but for what I think of myself.
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The human race is doomed to sink back farther and farther into the primitive night ere again it begins its bloody climb upward to civilization.
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I would rather be ashes than dust.
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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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I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me.
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There's only one way to make a beginning, and that is to begin and begin with hard work, and patience, prepared for all the disappoint­ment s.
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more you drink more you want
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Love, genuine passionate love, was his for the first time.
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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 and helpless progeny.
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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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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.
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The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life.
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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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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.
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It is so much easier to live placidly and complacently. Of course, to live placidly and complacently is not to live at all.
Jack London