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. I am filled with dreams and mysteries. I am all sun and air and sparkle. I am vitalized, organic.
Jack LondonThe 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 LondonFor the pride of trace and trail was his, and sick unto death, he could not bear that another dog should do his work.
Jack LondonBut especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called -- called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.
Jack London