“He did not playfully shake him, as was his wont, or murmur soft love curses; but he whispered in his ear.'As you love me, Buck. As you love me,' was what he whispered. --Call of the Wild” — Jack London Copy Share
“Jack London (January 12, 1876 – November 22, 1916), was an American author who wrote The Call of the Wild and other books. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction, he was one of the first Americans… — Jack London Copy Share Image
“And all the while the four men lay beside me and watched and made no move. Nor did I move, and without shame I say it; though my reason was compelled to struggle hard against my natural impulse to rise up and interfere. I knew life. Of what use to the woman, or to me, would be my being beaten… — Jack London Copy Share
“As the days went by, the evolution of LIKE into LOVE was accelerated. White Fang himself began to grow aware of it, though in… — Jack London Copy Share Image
My life shall be free and broad and great, and I will not be the slave to the sense delights which chained my ancient… — Jack London Copy Share Image
“But he knew life, its foulness as well as its fairness, its greatness in spite of the slime that infested it, and by God he was going to have his say on it to the world. Saints in heaven - how could they be anything but fair and pure? No praise to them. But saints in slime - ah, that… — Jack London Copy Share
Of her own experience she had no memory of the thing happening; but in her instinct, which was the experience of all mothers of… — Jack London Copy Share Image
Socialism, when the last word is said, is merely a new economic and political system whereby more men can get food to eat. — Jack London Copy Share Image
“As I, my real self, grew older, I entered more and more into the substance of my dreams. One may dream, and even in the midst of the dream be aware that he is dreaming, and if the dream be bad, comfort himself with the thought that it is only a dream. This is a common experience with all of… — Jack London Copy Share
A good soldier is a blind, heartless, soulless, murderous machine. He is not a man. His is not a brute, for brutes kill only in self defense. All that is human in him, all that is divine in him, all that constitutes the man has been sworn away when he took the enlistment roll. His mind, his conscience, aye, his… — Jack London Copy Share
“I believe that when I am dead, I am dead. I believe that with my death I am just as much obliterated as the… — Jack London Copy Share Image
