Author of quotes: Jack London. Page 4

Her ideal of male beauty was still elegant elegance.

Print intractability should be noted your thoughts and actions. You should be able with a magnificent indifference to meet setbacks, must have a colossal ego, a confidence that whatever you do, correctly.

He had not eaten anything for two days, but for even longer he has eaten his fill. And then he stooped, plucked a pale bog berries, put them into his mouth, chewed and swallowed. The berries were watery and melted quickly in my mouth-I could only bitter hard seed. He knew that they will not be satisfied, but still patiently chewed, because hope doesn't want to reckon with the experience.

... But only harder, only deeper - White Silence in his detachment. Nothing moves, the sky was bright as polished copper, the slightest whisper seems sacrilege, and man is frightened of his own voice. The only piece of a living, moving across the shadowy desert of the dead world, he fears his audacity, acutely conscious that he was only a worm. Themselves have strange ideas, the mystery of the universe looking for his expression. And man finds the fear of death, before God, before the world, and together with fear - the hope of the resurrection and the life and longing for immortality, the vain striving of the captive of matter; then the person is left alone with "God".

He was looking for love all my life. His nature craved love. It was an organic demand of his being. But he lived without love, and his soul more and more bitter and alone.

We also looked into the eyes of women, and our blood was boiling with unknown desires. But the years have chilled us, and we realized that only the experience is given the wisdom and composure only makes the mind perceptive, and the hand is solid, and we know that a warm heart is too hot and prone to haste.

Why would I want to live, if in himself and in what I do, I not be glad? I spend my days hunting and fishing because this is joy for me, and spending days hunting and fishing, I become agile and strong. Man sitting by the fire in the tent, losing dexterity and strength. He does not feel happy, eating the food produced is not for them, and life is not pleasing to him. He does not live.

Martin was intoxicated with its own victory, so much intoxicated that, thinking about the fifteen dollars that he had to "Hornet" for "the Peri and the pearl" and decided immediately to collect a debt. But in the edition of the "Hornet" were some clean-shaven young men, mere robbers, who, apparently, used to Rob everyone, including each other. Martin, however, managed to break some of the furniture, but in the end, the editor (in student's years took prizes in athletics) with the business Manager, the agent on collecting of ads and the doorman put Martin out the door and even helped him to quickly walk down the stairs.
- Come in, Mr. Eden, always happy to see you! - shouted cheerfully after him.
Martin got up from the ground, also smiling.
"Whew," he muttered. - Well done, guys!
In response, I heard laughter.
- Need to tell you, Mr. Eden, said the editor of "the Hornet" - that for the poet you bad at standing up for myself. You know what, no drink for us in honor of this? Of course, not in honor of the damaged neck, and in honor of our acquaintance.
- I'm defeated - therefore, it is necessary to agree, - answered Martin.

Love beauty for its own sake.

Here's more proof of the stability of conventional opinions - passionate Martin replied, annoyed at the mention of their enemies - the editors. - What exists is not only correct, but also the best. The fact of the existence of something considered as its justification, and, mind you, not only when these terms and forever. Of course, people believe in that stuff only because of his closed-minded ignorance, due to self-deception, which is so perfectly described weninger. Ignorant people think they think, dispose of the fate of those who think really.

So, this is life! There is no place for honesty and fairness. Once down, that was the end. So it is necessary to hold on tight!

What he offered her was insignificant in comparison with the fact that she was willing to give him. He offered her what he had extra, without which he could do, and she gave him all of myself, without fear nor shame, nor sin, nor eternal torment.

Not too upset that none of his line has still not been printed. Scripture was for him the final link in a complex mental process, the last host who contacted a few scattered thoughts, summarizing accumulated facts and conditions. Writing an article he released in my brain space for new ideas and challenges. In the end, it was something common to many habits from time to time "to unburden themselves with the words" habits that helping sometimes people carry and forget real or imaginary suffering.

To serve only the Beauty. Serve it - and to hell with the crowd! The joy of the poet in the works, but not in the subsequent success achieved. Don't argue with me. I know. And you know it. You are wounded beauty. This is an open wound, an incurable disease, a red-hot knife in the heart. What you flirt with magazines? Let your purpose will be only one Beauty.