Quotes About Wilderness

Glass spotted another dog by the creek, and this one he did not spare. Soon he had a fire burning in the center of the hut. Part of the dog he roasted on a spit over the fire and part he boiled in the kettle. He threw corn into the pot with the dog meat and continued his search through the village.

Blood oozed from deep puncture wounds at his neck and shoulder. His right arm flopped unnaturally. From the middle of his back to his waist, the bear's raking claws left deep, parallel cuts. It reminded Harris of tree trunks he had seen where bears mark their territory, only these marks were etched in flesh instead of wood. On the back of Glass's thigh, blood seeped through his buckskin breeches. Harris

I mean, sure this guy is a little nuts. You have to spend your whole life following bears around. But I get it, too. When he was with the bears, they didn't care that he was kind of weird, or that he'd gotten trouble for drinking too much and using drugs. They didn't ask him a bunch of stupid questions about how he felt, or why he did what he did. They just let them be who he was.

Estoy en el sistema liberal como un lobo en un descampado

Bruno ochi È™i arunc? din toate puterile. Piatra se sf?râm? de zid, ratând de puÈ›in capul reptilei. — ?erpii au locul lor în natur?..., observ? Hipiotul-C?runt cu o anume severitate. — Natura, ah! M? È™terg la cur cu ea, b?trâne! M? cac în freza ei! Bruno era din nou furios. — Natur? de c?cat... M? fut în ea de natur?!... morm?i el furios timp de vreo câteva minute.

Il a sauté dans un bosquet de fleurs sauvages. J'ai mis mes mains en cornet devant ma bouche, comme Tarzan, le roi de la jungle.

And yet I think I now understand the impulse which drives men to shoot bears. It isn't for the pelt or the meat or the sport - or not only those things. I think they need to do it. They need to kill that great Arctic totem to give them some sense of control over the wilderness - even if that is only an illusion.

Run, Torak! The bear...is...possessed...

Michelle Paver

O singur?tate cum nu poate tr?i nici un om în viaÈ›a real?, care-È›i rupe oasele ca un animal s?lbatic, îmi sfârteca organele interne.

To a Boy Boy, you are a hidden watering place under the trees where, as the day darkens, gentle beasts with calm eyes appear one after another. Even if the sun drops flaming at the end of the fields where grass stirs greenly and a wind pregnant with coolness and night-dew agitates your leafy bush, it is only a premonition. The tree of solitude that soars with ferocity, crowned with a swirling night, still continues in your dark place. ?Translated from the Japanese by Hiroaki Sato

Compared to the dog, the wolf is a true symbol of freedom or of those who refused to be spoon-fed.

Survival is not the issue, even animals know this crucial law of nature.

There is no rule of thumb when it comes to survival. Everything is allowed, even behaving like a wild animal.

Division There is a depth of darkness In the wild country, days of evening And the silence of the moon. I have crept upon the bare ground Where animals have left their tracks, And faint cries carry on the summits, Or sink to silence in the muffled leaves. Here is the world of wolves and bears And of old, instinctive being, So noble and indifferent as to be remote To human knowing. The scales upon which We seek a balance measure only a divide.

People sometimes speak as if the spirit were given to make us happy and relaxed. Well, that may sometimes happen, but this expectation looks suspiciously like an attempt to get the spirit to endorse [14] our modern western aspirations. In the New Testament, the spirit drove Jesus into the wilderness after his baptism,34 and the spirit drives the church into the places of pain and danger so that new creation may happen right there, where it is most needed.

I want to be alone . . . said no bear ever. —The Traveler's Guide to Changelings (Revised Edition: 1897)

From here, the rocks looked like sharp teeth, ready to bite and tear and rip. She tightened her hold as the icy wind threatened to tumble her into their unforgiving jaws. "Where

Pinetta was a hotbed of snakes and storms and sandspurs and sexual longing.

I am she who lifts the mountains When she goes to hunt, Who wears mamba for a headband And a lion for a belt. Beware! I swallow elephants whole And pick my teeth with rhinoceros horns, I drink up rivers to get at the hippos. Let them hear my words! Nhamo is coming And her hunger is great. I am she who tosses trees Instead of spears. The ostrich is my pillow And the elephant is my footstool! I am Nhamo Who makes the river my highway And sends crocodiles scurrying into the reeds!

There was a song in this forest, too, but it was a savage song, whispering of madness and tearing and rage.

And in the stockyard, beasts did climb their barriers.

better a live bird in the jungle of the body than two stuffed birds on the library table.

She had wandered, without rule or guidance, into a moral wilderness... Her intellect and heart had their home, as it were, in desert places, where she roamed as freely as the wild Indian in his woods... The scarlet letter was her passport into regions where other women dared not tread. Shame, Despair, Solitude! These had been her teachers—stern and wild ones—and they had made her strong, but taught her much amiss.