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The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life.
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
Murmur
Life
Awakening
Winter
Spring
Silence
Given
Great
Ghostly
Way
More quotes by Jack London
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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Socialism, when the last word is said, is merely a new economic and political system whereby more men can get food to eat.
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The Stone the Builders Rejected.
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A man with a club is a law-maker.
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So that was the way. No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you.
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Age is never so old as youth would measure it.
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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
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I'll have you know I do the swearing on this ship. If I need your assitance I'll call you. Capt. Wolf Larsen
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My mistake was in ever opening the books.
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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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I do not live for what the world thinks of me, but for what I think of myself.
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My life shall be free and broad and great, and I will not be the slave to the sense delights which chained my ancient ancestry. I reject the heritage. I break the entail. And who are you to say I am unwise?
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He was always striving to attain it. The life that was so swiftly expanding within him, urged him continually toward the wall of light. The life that was within him knew that it was the one way out, the way he was predestined to tread.
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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.
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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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The Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.
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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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Not all the monsters have fangs.
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But, – and there it is, – we want to live and move, though we have no reason to, because it happens that it is the nature of life to live and move, to want to live and move. If it were not for this, life would be dead. It is because of this life that is in you that you dream of your immortality.
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There is an ecstasy that marks the summit of life, and beyond which life cannot rise. And such is the paradox of living, this ecstasy comes when one is most alive, and it comes as a complete forgetfulness that one is alive.
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