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Untamed Quotes

Browse 61 quotes about Untamed.

Untamed Quotes

“I’ve got to go, Esmie. But remind me to tell you when I get back. The story will curl your hair.” Esmeralda gave him a pout, both at his teasing about her hair and because he was going to leave without telling her. “You are not a nice guy, Ian.” “Ah, so you’ve uncovered my secret.” He kissed her cheek in parting. “I have never been a nice guy, Esmeralda.” Intensity burned in his winter blue eyes as he added, “And I have never been tame.” —Ian ben Kole and Esmeralda ben Claude”

“Go call him back,” pleaded Joe. “He will stay for your sake.” She whispered: “I would rather call back the wild geese who flew across the moon. And they are only beautiful when they are wild!” “But you’ve lost him, Kate, don’t you understand?” “The wild geese fly north again in spring,” said Buck, “and he’ll—” “Hush!” she said. “Listen!” Far off, above the rushing of the wind, they heard the weird whistling, a thrilling and unearthly music. It was sad with the beauty of the night. It was joyous with the exultation of the wind. It might have been the voice of some god who rode the northern storm south, south after the wild geese, south with the untamed.”

“Then the Man threw his two boots and his little stone axe (that makes three) at the Cat, and the Cat ran out of the Cave and the Dog chased him up a tree; and from that day to this, Best Beloved, three proper Men out of five will always throw things at a Cat whenever they meet him, and all proper Dogs will chase him up a tree. But the Cat keeps his side of the bargain too. He will kill mice and he will be kind to Babies when he is in the house, just as long as they do not pull his tail too hard. But when he has done that, and between times, and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.”

“She'd become accustomed to letting the garden grow uncontrolled since her father left. And that had suited both Harriet and the garden. They'd both been free to move about as they liked, to behave how it felt natural to behave. Harriet's decision not to prune was why the vines climbed so high along the house this summer, why the roses covered the garden walls and the blackberry brambles spread out as they did, decorating the bricks between the house and the railroad tracks with as many brilliant green leaves as menacing thorns. It was why the plum tree's fruit lay about the place all summer and its flowers bloomed brilliantly in the spring. It was why the bluebells stood in their own self-proliferating patches beneath the trees and rosebushes and wherever they pleased. Why her evergreen hedges were not neatly trimmed and why the hawthorn tree at the front towered over the gate. Her garden was filled with so much fierce beauty, she knew it would not take kindly to being clipped to the quick.”

“The world looks with some awe upon a man who appears unconcernedly indifferent to home, money, comfort, rank, or even power and fame. The world feels not without a certain apprehension, that here is someone outside its jurisdiction; someone before whom its allurements may be spread in vain; some one strangely enfranchised, untamed, untrammelled by convention, moving independent of the ordinary currents of human action.”

“The goddess Artemis had a twin brother, Apollo, the many-faceted god of the Sun. He was her male counterpart: his domain was the city, hers the wilderness; his was the sun, hers the moon; his the domesticated flocks, hers the wild, untamed animals; he was the god of music, she was the inspiration for round dances on the mountains.”

“Nietzsche's vision of the superman is of someone who's able to control and tame his passions and turn them into something richer than raw emotion and raw feeling. I think the best writing does that too. Untamed passion basically results in bad writing or bad polemics, which so many writers and public intellectuals are vulnerable to.”

“The highest art is where has been most perfectly breathed the sentiment of humanity...Some persons suppose that landscape has no power of communicating human sentiment. But this is a great mistake. The civilized landscape peculiarly can: and therefore I love it more and think it more worthy of reproduction than that which is savage and untamed. It is more significant. Every act of man, every thing of labor, effort, suffering, want, anxiety, necessity, love, marks itself wherever it has been.”

“How is it, that for many of us, being a good Christian is nothing more than being a good person? The entire focus of our faith has been the elimination of sin, which is important but inadequate; rather than the unleashing of a unique, original, extraordinary, wonderfully untamed, faith.”

“He wondered what the years had done to his face as he traced the effects on hers. Eyes the same blue-lit green, but where mischievous joy once danced, now he saw sadness, deep as the ocean. Her cheeks were thinner. There was something else too: the arrogant pride of a princess seemed to be extinct. Yet the indefinable, untamed quality of her spirit remained. Yes, it was Torina.”

“To see ten thousand animals untamed and not branded with the symbols of human commerce is like scaling an unconquered mountain for the first time, or like finding a forest without roads or footpaths, or the blemish of an axe. You know then what you had always been told -- that the world once lived and grew without adding machines and newsprint and brick-walled streets and the tyranny of clocks.”

“There are intellectual vagabonds, to whom the hereditary dwelling-place of their fathers seems too cramped and oppressive for them to be willing to satisfy themselves with the limited space any more: instead of keeping within the limits of a temperate style of thinking, and taking as inviolable truth what furnishes comfort and tranquility to thousands, they overlap all bounds of the traditional and run wild with their imprudent criticism and untamed mania for doubt, these extravagating vagabonds.”

“I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river is a strong brown god-sullen, untamed and intractable, Patient to some degree, at first recognized as a frontier; Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce; Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges. The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten By the dwellers in cities-ever, however, implacable. Keeping his seasons, and rages, destroyer, reminder Of what men choose to forget. Unhonored, unpropitiated By worshippers of the machine, but waiting, watching and waiting.”

“But success shall crown my endeavours. Wherefore not? Thus far I have gone, tracking a secure way over the pathless seas: the very stars themselves being witnesses and testimonies of my triumph. Why not still proceed over the untamed yet obedient element? What can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man?”