Jack London
Jack London
John Griffith "Jack" London was an American novelist, journalist, and social activist. A pioneer in the then-burgeoning world of commercial magazine fiction, he was one of the first fiction writers to obtain worldwide celebrity and a large fortune from his fiction alone...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth12 January 1876
CitySan Francisco, CA
CountryUnited States of America
inspirational life motivational
Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.
funny witty life-changing
You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.
misunderstood mercy made
Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death.
men valuation deprived
Man rarely places a proper valuation upon his womankind, at least not until deprived of them.
inspirational life ambition
I would rather be ashes than dust! 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. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.
tattoo past men
Show me a man with a tattoo and I'll show you a man with an interesting past.
dog intelligent feet
He became quicker of movement than the other dogs, swifter of foot, craftier, deadlier, more lithe, more lean with ironlike muscle and sinew, more enduring, more cruel more ferocious, and more intelligent. He had to become all these things, else he would not have held his own nor survived the hostile environment in which he found himself.
blood cities drives eyes forest head infinitely instincts joy living men periods plain running stated stirring teeth warm wash wild
All that stirring of old instincts which at stated periods drives men out from the sounding cities to forest and plain to kill things by chemically propelled leaden pellets, the blood lust, the joy to kill--all this was Buck's, only it was infinitely more intimate. He was ranging at the head of the pack, running the wild thing down, the living meat, to kill with his own teeth and wash his muzzle to the eyes in warm blood.