Quotes from Eric Knight

Not with all his brain development can man tell how a bird or an animal can be crated, taken miles away in darkness, and when released, strike back towards its home. Man only knows that animals can do what he can neither do himself nor explain.

The boy bent his head lower. "I don't want any," he said in a whisper. "Oh, dogs, dogs, dogs," his mother flared. Her voice rose in anger again. "All this trouble over one dog. Well, if ye ask me, I'm glad Lassie's gone. That I am. As much trouble to take care of as a child! Now she's gone, and it's done with, and I'm glad – I am. I'm glad!

There's something about honesty...A chap's got to be honest. Never forget it all thy entire life. And there's a funny thing about honesty...No two ways about it; there's only one way about it....(Father to son, Joe)

When human beings are ill, they often make a show of their injuries and parade them so that others may see and give them sympathy. It is just the reverse with an animal living in its natural state. Asking no sympathy, deeming rather that weakness of any kind is something to be ashamed of, it crawls away into some hidden corner and there, alone, it awaits the outcome – either recovery or death.

And there's a funny thing about honesty; there's no two ways about it. There's only one way about it. Honest is honest.

To chase a dog is merely to teach it to run away.

But the stream had now carried her down towards the village. The boys on the bridge saw the spectacle of a dog being whirled by the current. They shouted and hallooed. With the cruelty of the young that sometimes gets free rein, they picked stones from the roadbed and flung them at her. As her body was whirled under the bridge, they ran across to the downstream side and continued their senseless pelting.

There was a blur that flashed past her knees and then Priscilla stood, looking down the road, watching the dog go steadily at a lope as if it knew it had a long, long way to go. So she lifted her hand. "Goodbye, Lassie," she said, softly. "Goodbye and – good luck!

There are breeds of hunting dogs that are never so happy as when a gun is sounded. But not a collie. It seems as if this breed, having worked so long as man's companion, has learnt that such sharp, savage sounds may mean hurt.

Joe trotted beside his father, who walked quickly. He was thinking that he would never be able to understand why grown-ups were so hard-hearted just when you needed them most.

The collie heard the word "lass," and barked at it. The pedlar shook his head. "Nay, that's the pity of it. Ye can understand some o' man's language, but man isn't bright enough to understand thine. And yet it's us that's supposed to be most intelligent!

He raced on down High Street, and now Lassie seemed to catch his enthusiasm. She ran beside him, leaping high in the air, barking that sharp cry of happiness that dogs often can achieve. Her mouth was stretched wide, as collies so frequently do in their glad moments, and in a way that makes collie owners swear that their dogs laugh when pleased.

She submitted patiently to all the handling of Hynes, as if she knew there were no use making any protest – but each day, just before four o'clock in the afternoon, something waked in her, and the training of a lifetime called her. She would tear against the wires of her pen or dash at the fence and try to leap it. She had not forgotten.

The two of them stared at the dog behind the wire. Lassie stood, ignoring them as if she were a queen and they were beings so far beneath her that she could not see them.

Lassie was so well known in the village. It was because, as the women said, "You can set your clock by her".

That's what I wanted to say. Ye mustn't think we're over hard on thee. We don't want to be. It's just – well – back of it all, a chap's got to be honest, Joe. And never thee forget that, all thy life, no matter what comes. Ye've got to be honest.

She had no fear of dogs. It was man she wished to leave behind, and her senses told her they were not near. But now she feared him more than ever. Not only could his hands chain and pen one up, but he could make the terrifying thunder noises that hurt the ears and that somehow reached out like a long, invisible whip and brought pain such as that which now tore at her.

So the dogs stood for a moment – the one prone under Lassie's stiff paw, the other cleaning himself with an air that seemed to say: "I didn't have anything to do with this whole affair at all!

Then suddenly there was a flash, and thunder pealed. Lassie hesitated and whined in a quick, querulous tone. She was frightened. It is little use to blame a dog for having fear. A dog has so many braveries that its few fears do not cancel them out. And truth to tell, there are few collies that can stand thunder and lightning.

Ah, Peggy, and how should I know? All I do know is that ye'd be feeding all the stray dogs and waifs and tramps in the world if ye had your way.

Slowly, he walked up the path with the dog and opened the door. Everything in the cottage was as it had been before – his mother getting the evening meal ready, his father brooding in front of the fire, as he did for hours these days since there was no work. "She's… she's come home again,'' Joe said.

For a dog is not like a cat. Like men, a dog has learnt to fear heights. And yet it was the only way.

It is little use to blame a dog for having fear. A dog has so many braveries that its few fears do not cancel them out.

So, dimly, and then more clearly, the new idea came into Lassie's mind. She leapt, and fell back again. The fence was six feet high, much too high for a collie to leap. A greyhound or a borzoi could have sailed over it easily.