Top 100 Quotes About Jack London
#1. The poem you sent me was as fiery and virile as anything you've ever written - or anybody else, for that matter. Especially the second part went to my brain like the flaming liquor of insanity. No one else besides Jack London has the power to move me just that way.
Robert E. Howard
#2. My office walls are covered with autographs of famous writers - it's what my children call my 'dead author wall.' I have signatures from Mark Twain, Earnest Hemingway, Jack London, Harriett Beecher Stowe, Pearl Buck, Charles Dickens, Rudyard Kipling, Alfred, Lord Tennyson, to name a few.
Debbie Macomber
#3. Jack London and Ernest Hemingway, confidence swaggering into the storm: Man against Nature. Of all the possible conflicts, that was the one that was hopeless. Even a slim education had taught her this much: Man loses.
Barbara Kingsolver
#4. Jack London is a very generous description of my small hiking, bicycling, and canoeing habit. I myself feel like a weak urbanite a lot of the time, because lots of my friends are incredible outdoorsmen and women.
Nick Offerman
#5. I've always liked the classic "young adult" writers like Mark Twain, Jack London, Roald Dahl, Charles Dickens. They write so clearly, and they know how to entertain.
Arthur Bradford
#6. I have always loved and avidly read the novels of Jack London, Jules Verne and Ernest Hemingway. The characters depicted in their books, who are brave and resourceful people embarking on exciting adventures, definitely shaped my inner self and nourished my love for the outdoors.
Vladimir Putin
#7. I can never forget that Chinese student I knew in Paris - Mr. Tcheou, I think it was. One day, upon asking him if he had ever read Hamlet, he answered: "You mean that novel by Jack London?
Henry Miller
#8. There were others, such as Jack London,who offered their readers such a respite from the miserable horror of existence that their books were like gifts from the gods. (Character of Tristan Sadler in "the Absolutist")
John Boyne
#9. I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. - Jack London
Jack London
#10. The best American writers have come from the hinterlands
Mark Twain, Theodore Dreiser, Jack London, Hemingway, Faulkner, Wolfe, Steinbeck. Most of them never even went to college.
Edward Abbey
#11. (Jack London)"He was an adventurer and a man of action as few writers have ever been . . . the excellence of his short stories has been almost forgotten.
George Orwell
#12. From the great Jack London: "You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club." What inspires you?
Gayle Lynds
#13. If only I were articulate to paint in the frail medium of words what I see and know and possess incorporated in my consciousness of the mighty driftage of the races in the times before our present written history began!
Jack London
#14. As imagination grew it is likely that the fear of death increased until the Folk that were to come projected this fear into the dark and peopled it with spirits.
Jack London
#15. The word is too weak. There is no word in the language strong enough to describe my feelings.
Jack London
#16. It's better to stand by someone's side than by yourself
Jack London
#17. So that was the way. No fair play. Once down, that was the end of you.
Jack London
#18. 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.
Jack London
#19. For the pride of trace and trail was his, and sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work.
Jack London
#21. a starched collar affected him as a renunciation of freedom.
Jack London
#22. Life is not always a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.
Jack London
#23. He was older than the days he had seen and the breaths he had drawn.
Jack London
#24. I was not made for the desk and counting-house, for petty business squabbling, and legal jangling.
Jack London
#25. 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.
Jack London
#26. I wandered all these years among A world of women, seeking you.
Jack London
#28. Go strip off your clothes that are a nuisance in this mellow clime. Get in and wrestle with the sea; wing your heels with the skill and power that reside in you, hit the sea's breakers, master them, and ride upon their backs as a king should.
Jack London
#29. Their hate bound them together as love could never bind.
Jack London
#30. Then one can't make a living out of poetry? Certainly not. What fool expects to? Out of rhyming, yes.
Jack London
#31. He had the "Love-sonnets from the Portuguese" in mind as he wrote, and he wrote under the best conditions for great work, at a climacteric of living, in the throes of his own sweet love-madness. The
Jack London
#32. 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?
Jack London
#33. That was a page read and turned over; I was busy now with this new page, and when the engine whistled on the grade, this page would be finished and another begun; and so the book of life goes on, page after page and pages without end - when one is young.
Jack London
#34. No man can be intellectually insulted. Insult, in its very nature, is emotional.
Jack London
#35. He must master or be mastered; while to show mercy was a weakness. Mercy did not exist in the primordial lite. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death. Kill or be killed, eat or be eaten, was the law; and this mandate, down out of the depths of times he obeyed.
Jack London
#36. Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death.
Jack London
#37. Do you know the only value life has is what life puts on itself?
Jack London
#38. Growth is life, and life is for ever destined to make for light.
Jack London
#39. You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
Jack London
#40. Life, in a sense, is living and surviving. And all that makes for living and surviving is good. He who follows the fact cannot go astray, while he who has no reverence for the fact wanders afar.
Jack London
#41. Don't loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club.
Jack London
#42. The game of life is good, though all of life may be hurt, and though all lives lose the game in the end.
Jack London
#43. At once he became an enigma. One side or the other of his nature was perfectly comprehensible; but both sides together were bewildering.
Jack London
#44. Sensation invested itself in form and color and radiance, and what his imagination dared, it objectified in some sublimated and magic way. Past, present, and future mingled; and he went on oscillating across the broad, warm world, through
Jack London
#45. Lobby - a peculiar institution for bribing, bulldozing, and corrupting the legislators who were supposed to represent the people's interests.
Jack London
#46. He was a silent fury who no torment could tame.
Jack London
#47. So here was my predicament: I knew that within myself was a Golconda of memories of other lives, yet I was unable to do more than flit like a madman through those memories. I had my Golconda but could not mine it.
Jack London
#48. White Fang knew the law well: to oppress the weak and obey the strong.
Jack London
#49. And at the instant he knew, he ceased to know.
Jack London
#50. A Scotch half-breed took charge of him and his mates, and in company with a dozen other dog-teams he started back over the weary trail to Dawson. It was no light running now, nor record time, but heavy toil each day, with a heavy load behind; for this was the mail train,
Jack London
#51. Age is never so old as youth would measure it.
Jack London
#52. In dim ways he recognised in man the animal that had fought itself to primacy over the other animals of the Wild.
Jack London
#53. Limited minds can recognize limitations only in others.
Jack London
#54. Wolf - tis what he is. He's not blackhearted like some men. 'Tis no heart he has at all.
Jack London
#55. The most beautiful stories always start with wreckage.
Jack London
#56. He had learned to get along without her. Her meaning was forgotten. There was no place for her in his scheme of things, as there was no place for him in hers.
Jack London
#57. When I think of the play of force and matter, and all the tremendous struggle of it, I feel as if I could write an epic on the grass.
Jack London
#58. to squirm my little space in the cosmic dust whence I came,
Jack London
#59. Wherever there is an ascendant class, a large portion of the morality emanates from its class interests and its class feelings of superiority.
Jack London
#60. I remembered my days and nights of sunshine and starshine, where life was all a wild sweet wonder, a spiritual paradise of unselfish adventure and ethical romance. And I saw before me, ever blazing and burning, the Holy Grail.
Jack London
#61. Don'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 London
#62. Dark spruce frowned on either side of the frozen waterway.
Jack London
#63. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.
Jack London
#64. Life lived on life. There were the eaters and the eaten. The law was: EAT OR BE EATEN.
Jack London
#65. I settled in to watch a Dragnet rerun. I bought the judge in four of Jack Webb's drunk-driving beefs. I shtupped Jack's ex-wife, soaring songstress Julie London.
James Ellroy
#66. Sometimes it seems to me that all the world, all life, everything, had taken up residence inside of me and was clamoring for me to be the spokesman.
Jack London
#69. The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life.
Jack London
#71. He 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.
Jack London
#72. Here were we, drawn together by mutual rage and the impulse toward cooperation, led off into forgetfulness by the establishment of a rude rhythm.
Jack London
#73. But it did not all happen in a day, this giving over of himself, body and soul, to the man-animals. He could not immediately forego his wild heritage and his memories of the Wild. There were days when he crept to the edge of the forest and stood and listened to something calling him far and away.
Jack London
#74. Any man who was a man could travel alone.
Jack London
#75. Ancient, grizzled, wild-eyed, emaciated by fever, dragged his weary frame up the veranda steps and collapsed in a steamer-chair. Whisky and soda kept him going while he made report and turned in his accounts.
Jack London
#76. The dominant primordial beast was strong in Buck
Jack London
#77. 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.
Jack London
#78. Solomon Island scourges, dysentery, had struck Berande plantation, and he was all alone to cope with it. Also, he was afflicted himself. By stooping close, still on man-back, he managed to pass through the low doorway. He took
Jack London
#79. The more he studied, the more vistas he caught of fields of knowledge yet unexplored, and the regret that days were only twenty-four hours long became a chronic complaint with him.
Jack London
#80. Fear urged him to go back, but growth drove him on.
Jack London
#81. Every book was a peep-hole into the realm of knowledge. His hunger fed upon what he read, and increased.
Jack London
#82. I write for no other purpose than to add to the beauty that now belongs to me. I write a book for no other reason than to add three or four hundred acres to my magnificent estate.
Jack London
#83. Sometimes they went hungry, sometimes they feasted riotously, all according to the abundance of game and the fortune of hunting.
Jack London
#84. He linked the past with the present, and the eternity behind him throbbed through him in a mighty rhythm to which he swayed as the tides and seasons swayed.
Jack London
#85. In advance of the dogs, on wide snowshoes, toiled a man. At the rear of the sled toiled a second man. On the sled, in the box, lay a third man whose toil was over - a man whom the Wild had conquered and beaten down until he would never move nor struggle again.
Jack London
#86. But I am I. And I won't subordinate my taste to the unanimous judgment of mankind
Jack London
#87. 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.
Jack London
#88. It is good that man should accept at face value the cheats of sense and snares of flesh, and through the fogs of sentiency pursue the lures and lies of passion.
Jack London
#89. He was not immoral, but merely unmoral.
Jack London
#90. Much of the Wild had been lost, so that to them the Wild was the unknown, the terrible, the ever menacing and ever warring. But to him, in appearance and action and impulse, still clung the Wild.
Jack London
#91. If a company is distributing images and video then obviously they need bandwidth solutions. But if they are looking to the mass market then they must develop WAP sites.
Jack London
#92. The same amazing blush he had seen once
Jack London
#93. The fortunate man is the one who cannot take more than a couple of drinks without becoming intoxicated. The unfortunate wight is the one who can take many glasses without betraying a sign; who must take numerous glasses in order to get the 'kick'.
Jack London
#94. He had been suddenly jerked from the heart of civilization and flung into the heart of things primordial.
Jack London
#95. Insanity? The mental processes of a man with whom one disagrees, are always wrong. Where is the line between wrong mind and sane mind? It is inconceivable that any sane man can radically disagree with one's most sane conclusions.
Jack London
#96. He had discovered, in the course of his reading, two schools of fiction. One treated of man as a god, ignoring his earthly origin; the other treated of man as a clod, ignoring his heavensent dreams and divine possibilities.
Jack London
#97. Great, thought Jack. I'm on marathon walk to London, likely to be ambushed by diseased nutters at any moment and I'm stuck with a load of idiots who sound like they've escaped from the set of In the Night Garden.
Charlie Higson
#98. That the work of a drinker who had no intention of stopping drinking should become a major propaganda piece in the campaign for Prohibition is surely one of the ironies in the history of alcohol.
Jack London
#99. His conclusion was that things were not always what they appeared to be. The cub's fear of the unknown was an inherited distrust, and it had now been strengthened by experience. Thenceforth, in the nature of things, he would possess an abiding distrust of appearances.
Jack London
#100. So the little thing grew bigger. He was healthy and normal, ate regularly, slept long hours, and yet the growing little thing was becoming an obsession. WORK PERFORMED. The phrase haunted his brain.
Jack London
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