Food And Fire, Protection And Companionship, Were

There Is Such A Thing As Anaesthesia Of Pain, Engendered By Pain Too Exquisite To Be Borne.

I Would Rather Be Ashes Than Dust.

I Love The Flesh. I'm A Pagan. "who Are They Who Speak Evil Of The Clay? The Very Stars Are Made Of Clay Like Mine!"

White Fang Knew The Law Well: To Oppress The Weak And Obey The Strong.

The Effect Of Civilization Is To Impose Human Law Upon Environment Until It Becomes Machine-like In Its Regularity. The Objectionable Is Eliminated, The Inevitable Is Foreseen. One Is Not Even Made Wet By The Rain Nor Cold By The Frost; While Death, Instead Of Stalking About Gruesome And Accidental, Becomes A Prearranged Pageant, Moving Along A Well-oiled Groove To The Family Vault, Where The Hinges Are Kept From Rusting And The Dust From The Air Is Swept Continually Away.