I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet.

Everything is good . . . as long as it is unpossessed. Satiety and possession are Death's horses they run in span.

Had the cub thought in man-fashion, he might have epitomized life as a voracious appetite, and the world as a place wherein ranged a multitude of appetites, pursuing and being pursued, hunting and being hunted, eating and being eaten, all in blindness and confusion, with violence and disorder, a chaos of gluttony and slaughter, ruled over by chance, merciless, planless, endless.

The loneliness of the man is slowly being borne in upon me. There is not a man aboard but hates or fears him, nor is there a man whom he does not despise.

Pray do not interrupt me," he wrote. "I am smiling.

A man with a club [bat] is a law-maker, a man to be obeyed, but not necessarily conciliated.

For the pride of trace and trail was his, and sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work.