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Quote by Davide Morosinotto

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La legge della giungla: La vera storia di Bagheera

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Davide Morosinotto

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“Lho indotta a sottoscrivere i gesti di una madre sola e imperfetta, di una pittrice dal valore dubitoso, di una donna altera ma debole, una donna che vorrebbe esse uomo per sfuggire se stessa. E da donna a donna l'ho trattata, senza discrezione, senza virile rispetto. Trecento anni di maggiore esperienza non mi hanno insegnato a riscattare una compagna dai suoi errori umani e a ricostruirle una libertà ideale, quella che la affrancava e la esaltava nelle ore di lavoro, che furono tante. E ormai non so che cimentarla, per farla parlare, sui ricordi di una maternità infelice, il solito argomento delle donne.”

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Book:Artemisia
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“Uno strigo deve difendere gli uomini, affinché non vengano appesi agli alberi per le mani e impalati. Difendere le fanciulle dai capelli biondi, affinché non vengano legate con braccia e gambe divaricate a paletti conficcati nel terreno. Difendere i bambini, affinché non vengano scannati e gettati nei pozzi. Merita di essere difeso perfino un gatto bruciato in un fienile dato alle fiamme. Perciò diventerò una striga, perciò ho la spada, per difendere la gente come quella di Sodden e Oltreriva, perché loro non hanno armi, non conoscono i passi, i mezzi giri, le schivate e le piroette, nessuno ha insegnato loro a combattere, sono impotenti di fronte ai licantropi e ai disertori di Nilfgaard. A me insegnano a combattere. Per poter difendere gli inermi. E lo farò. Sempre. Non sarò mai neutrale. Non sarò mai indifferente. Mai!”

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Book:Krew elfów
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“Roughly speaking, the period when bevies of bobwhites were found in great abundance over a goodly portion of the American landscape embraced a period from early in the 20th century into the late 1950s or early 1960s. In retrospect, we can readily perceive the circumstances that produced an incredible bounty of the saucy little patrician of peafield cormers and briar-infested fencerows. All were, in one way or another, habitat related, and all have vanished like milkweed spores caught in September thermals. It was a time of sharecroppers and small farmers, folks who worked the land by hand and with teams of horses or mules. The concept of “clean farming” was both impractical and unknown, and these staunch sons of the soil were also practical conservationists who routinely left field edges and ditch banks in an overgrown state. They allowed worn-out land to revert to broomsedge and pines, and the practice of leaving peafield corners unharvested was commonplace. Raptors were shot on sight, with every hawk being deemed a “chicken” hawk. Furbearing nest predators—'’possums, ’coons, skunks, and foxes—were trapped and hunted for food or fur. Serpents, except for black snakes, which were prized because they kept rodent populations under control around corncribs, were not only killed; they were displayed on fences as a sort of message. Coyotes were at that point unknown over most of the South, the heartland of the noble quail and home of the strongest traditions associated with the bird, Foxes weren't just hunted; they were exterminated. In other words, an area encompassing tens of millions of acres was overseen by an army of unofficial, unpaid, unheralded, yet highly effective gamekeepers.”

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Book:The Greatest Quail Hunting Book Ever, Collector’s Edition
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