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Quote by Jack London

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The Call of the Wild and White Fang

This combined volume presents two of Jack London's most celebrated works set in the unforgiving landscapes of the Klondike Gold Rush. In The Call of the Wild, Buck, a pampered domestic dog, is stolen from his California home and thrust into the brutal life of a sled dog in the Yukon, where he must tap into his ancestral instincts to survive and eventually answers the call of the wild. In White Fang, the story reverses the journey, tracing the life of a wild wolf-dog pup who is gradually domesticated through both cruelty and kindness, ultimately finding a bond with a human master. Both narratives examine themes of nature versus civilization, the law of club and fang, and the enduring power of instinct and adaptation in a hostile environment. more

Author

Jack London
Jack London

Jack London was an American author known for his adventure novels and realistic works. His writings often depicted the lives of the underclass and his profound insights into the natural world. His notable works include 'The Call of the Wild' and 'White Fang'. more

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“The hand descended. Nearer and nearer it came. It touched the ends of his upstanding hair. He shrank down under it. It followed down after him, pressing more closely against him. Shrinking, almost shivering. He still managed to hold himself together. It was a torment, this hand that touched him and violated his instinct. He could not forget in a day all the evil that had been wrought him at the hands of men.”

“Some things you forget. Other things you never do. But it's not. Places, places are still there. If a house burns down, it's gone, but the place--the picture of it--stays, and not just in my remory, but out there, in the world. What I remember is a picture floating around out there outside my head. I mean, even if I don't think if, even if I die, the picture of what I did, or knew, or saw is still out there. Right in the place where it happened.”

“Old Flossie settle down on the other side of What-the-Dickens and dragged some handiwork out of a sack. She armed herself with two thorns shaped into knitting needles. A wodge of curlicued metallic scrubbing pad supplied the threat. 'I knit handcuffs as a hobby,' explained Old Flossie happily, and set to work. 'Idle hands get up to no good, so I like to be prepared in case I meet up with any idle hands.”