The grapes on a score of rolling hills are red with autumn flame. Across Sonoma Mountain wisps of sea fog are stealing. The afternoon sun smoulders in the drowsy sky. I have everything to make me glad I am alive.… — Jack London Copy Share Image
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. — 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… — Jack London Copy Share Image
“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… — Jack London Copy Share Image
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… — Jack London Copy Share Image
A good soldier is a blind, heartless, soulless, murderous machine. He is not a man. His is not a brute, for brutes kill only… — Jack London Copy Share Image
“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
