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The scab is a traitor to his God, his mother, and his class.

Jack London

And how have I lived? Frankly and openly, though crudely. I have not been afraid of life. I have not shrunk from it. I have taken it for what it was at its own valuation. And I have not been ashamed of it. Just as it was, it was mine.
JACK LONDON

Afraid Life Live Myself Open Shame Value
The Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.
JACK LONDON

Himself Lingering Sleep Wild Wolf
The greatest of the arts is the conquering of men.
JACK LONDON

Art Conquer Greatness Man
Life is not a matter of holding good cards, but sometimes, playing a poor hand well.
JACK LONDON

Card Deep Goodness Hands Hard Time Hold Inspirational Life Perspective Play Poor
Don’t write too much. Concentrate your sweat on one story, rather than dissipate it over a dozen.
JACK LONDON

Concentration Focus Story Writing
Having no new companions, nothing remained for him but to read.
JACK LONDON

Alone Book Company Friendship Himself Reading
Desire is a pain which seeks easement through possession.
JACK LONDON

Desire Pain Possession Seek
Mercy did not exist in the primordial life. It was misunderstood for fear, and such misunderstandings made for death.
JACK LONDON

Death Existence Fear Life Mercy Misunderstood
Some sorts of truth are truer than others.
JACK LONDON

Deep Philosophy True
If cash comes with fame, come fame; if cash comes without fame, come cash.
JACK LONDON

Fame Money Popular
His conclusion was that things were not always what they appeared to be. The cub’s fear of the unknown was an inherited distrust, and it had now been strengthened by experience. Thenceforth, in the nature of things, he would possess an abiding distrust of appearances.
JACK LONDON

Appearance Experience Fear Himself Inheritance Nature Strength Trust Unknown
Life, in a sense, is living and surviving. And all that makes for living and surviving is good. He who follows the fact cannot go astray, while he who has no reverence for the fact wanders afar.
JACK LONDON

Goodness Himself Life Live Survive
The word is too weak. There is no word in the language strong enough to describe my feelings.
JACK LONDON

Description Feeling Language Myself Weakness Word
He was a silent fury who no torment could tame.
JACK LONDON

Fury Himself Silence Tame
He was a killer, a thing that preyed, living on the things that lived, unaided, alone, by virtue of his own strength and prowess, surviving triumphantly in a hostile environment where only the strong survive.
JACK LONDON

Alone Himself Kill Live Prey Strength Strong Survive Virtue
You stand on dead men’s legs. You’ve never had any of your own. You couldn’t walk alone between two sunrises and hustle the meat for your belly.
JACK LONDON

Alone Death Food Hustle Legs Man Sunrise Walk Yourself

The scab is a traitor to his God, his mother, and his class.

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The scab is a traitor to his God, his mother, and his class.

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