Having no new companions, nothing remained for him but to read.

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

He was mastered by the sheer surging of life, the tidal wave of being, the perfect joy of each separate muscle, joint, and sinew in that it was everything that was not death, that it was aglow and rampant, expressing itself in movement, flying exultantly under the stars.

Pursuit and possession are accompanied by states of consciousness so wide apart that they can never be united.

Don't loaf and invite inspiration; light out after it with a club, and if you don't get it you will nonetheless get something that looks remarkably like it.

The aim of life was meat. Life itself was meat. Life lived on life. There were the eaters and the eaten.

If cash comes with fame, come fame; if cash comes without fame, come cash.