bookmate game
Jack London

The Iron Heel

    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    I was able to take a calm interest. Death meant nothing, life meant nothing. I was an interested spectator of events, and, sometimes swept on by the rush, was myself a curious participant.
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    the put-a-put, put-a-put of rifles
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    rushing stream of human lava
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    I do not believe in hell-fire and brimstone; but in moments like this I regret my unbelief. Nay, in moments like this I almost do believe. Surely there must be a hell, for in no less place could it be possible for you to receive punishment adequate to your crimes. So long as you exist, there is a vital need for hell-fire in the Cosmos."
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    it's the being curious that makes life worth living."
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    "Joy upon joy and gain upon gain

    Are the destined rights of my birth,

    And I shout the praise of my endless days

    To the echoing edge of the earth.

    Though I suffer all deaths that a man can die

    To the uttermost end of time,

    I have deep-drained this, my cup of bliss,

    In every age and clime—

    "The froth of Pride, the tang of Power,

    The sweet of Womanhood!

    I drain the lees upon my knees,

    For oh, the draught is good;

    I drink to Life, I drink to Death,

    And smack my lips with song,

    For when I die, another 'I' shall pass the cup along.

    "The man you drove from Eden's grove

    Was I, my Lord, was I,

    And I shall be there when the earth and the air

    Are rent from sea to sky;

    For it is my world, my gorgeous world,

    The world of my dearest woes,

    From the first faint cry of the newborn

    To the rack of the woman's throes.

    "Packed with the pulse of an unborn race,

    Torn with a world's desire,

    The surging flood of my wild young blood

    Would quench the judgment fire.

    I am Man, Man, Man, from the tingling flesh

    To the dust of my earthly goal,

    From the nestling gloom of the pregnant womb

    To the sheen of my naked soul.

    Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh

    The whole world leaps to my will,

    And the unslaked thirst of an Eden cursed

    Shall harrow the earth for its fill.

    Almighty God, when I drain life's glass

    Of all its rainbow gleams,

    The hapless plight of eternal night

    Shall be none too long for my dreams.

    "The man you drove from Eden's grove

    Was I, my Lord, was I,

    And I shall be there when the earth and the air

    Are rent from sea to sky;

    For it is my world, my gorgeous world,

    The world of my dear delight,

    From the brightest gleam of the Arctic stream

    To the dusk of my own love-night."
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    Father must have had strong in him the blood of adventure. He looked upon our catastrophe in the light of an adventure. No anger nor bitterness possessed him. He was too philosophic and simple to be vindictive, and he lived too much in the world of mind to miss the creature comforts we were giving up. So it was, when we moved to San Francisco into four wretched rooms in the slum south of Market Street, that he embarked upon the adventure with the joy and enthusiasm of a child—combined with the clear sight and mental grasp of an extraordinary intellect. He really never crystallized mentally. He had no false sense of values. Conventional or habitual values meant nothing to him. The only values he recognized were mathematical and scientific facts. My father was a great man. He had the mind and the soul that only great men have. In ways he was even greater than Ernest, than whom I have known none greater.
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    You are perishing, and you are doomed to perish utterly from the face of society.
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    "Poor simple folk," Ernest said to me in an undertone. "They see clearly as far as they see, but they see only to the ends of their noses."
    b5825192143has quoted10 months ago
    The silver trumpets rang across the Dome;

    The people knelt upon the ground with awe;

    And borne upon the necks of men I saw,

    Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.

    "Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,

    And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,

    Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head;

    In splendor and in light the Pope passed home.

    "My heart stole back across wide wastes of years

    To One who wandered by a lonely sea;

    And sought in vain for any place of rest:

    'Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,

    I, only I, must wander wearily,

    And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.'
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