Do you know that the only value life has is what life puts upon itself? And it is of course over-estimated, since it is a necessity prejudiced in its own favor. ...There is plenty more life demanding to be born. ...He was worth nothing to the world. The supply is too large.
Jack LondonWith the aurora borealis flaming coldly overhead, or the stars leaping in the frost dance, and the land numb and frozen under its pall of snow, this song of the huskies might have been the defiance of life, only it was pitched in minor key, with long-drawn wailings and half-sobs, and was more the pleading of life, the articulate travail of existence. It was an old song, old as the breed itself--one of the first songs of the younger world in a day when songs were sad.
Jack LondonMercedes nursed a special grievance - the grievance of sex. She was pretty and soft, and had been chivalrously treated all her days. But the present treatment by her husband and brother was everything save chivalrous. It was her custom to be helpless. They complained. Upon which impeachment of what to her was her most essential sex pregorative, she made their lives unendurable.
Jack LondonDon't loaf around and wait for inspiration. Light out after it with a club, and if you don't get it, you will get something that looks remarkably like it.
Jack LondonI would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
Jack LondonThe dark circle became a dot on the moon-flooded snow as Spitz disappeared from view.
Jack LondonHe knew full well, from his Spencer, that man can never attain ultimate knowledge of anything, and that the mystery of beauty was no less than that of life - nay, more that the fibres of beauty and life were intertwisted, and that he himself was but a bit of the same nonunderstandable fabric, twisted of sunshine and star-dust and wonder.
Jack LondonHe was a man without a past, whose future was the imminent grave and whose present was a bitter fever of living.
Jack LondonHe cut short my request for something to eat, snapping out, "I don't believe you want to work."
Now this was irrelevant. I hadn't said anything about work. The topic of conversation I had introduced was "food." In fact, I didn't want to work. I wanted to take the westbound overland that night.
Now it happens that I am a fluid sort of an organism, with sufficient kinship with life to fit myself in 'most anywhere.
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