Quotes About Wilderness

Louis L'Amour

Louis L'Amour

We live in wild country, sir. I know folks who think all wild things are sweet and cuddly, but they've never come into a henhouse after a weasel has been there. He can drink the blood of only one or two, but often as not he'll kill every one of them. Wolves will do it in a pen of lambs, too. There are savage beasts in the world, Mr. Chantry, and men who are just as savage.

buckskin and maybe grabbing Lorna's bridle, too. It must have hurt when I flopped him into the saddle but he didn't make a sound, just glared at me. Taking up

Louis L'Amour

stock runnin' on the plains south of the Platte all the way

and studied the terrain. Twice that morning he had seen unshod hoofprints. There were Apaches around. He walked back to the boy and ate his share of the rabbit while Johnny was brushing the spines from a tuna the way he had shown him earlier. As the boy ate the desert fruit, he thought about how fast the morning had gone, how much he had enjoyed it. And this was the son

There's a little cowboy in all of us, a little frontier.

opening. Sticks were broken, a fire started.

wealth, but he had been a hunter. Never so much at home as when he was far from home and in the deep woods, the far veldt, the desert, the mountains. THE TABLE HAD been set up

you," Wildy said

She gave her husband such a night of sexual pleasure that his eyes followed her constantly after that, narrow and hot. He grew molten when she passed near other men, and at night they made their own shaking tent. They got teased too much and moved farther off, into the brush, into the nesting ground of shy and holy loons. There, no one could hear them. In solitude they made love until they became gaunt and hungry, pale windigos with aching eyes, tongues of flame.

la selva, ese asfixiante, putrefacto, enloquecedor vientre vegetal.

If we assume man has been corrupted by an artificial civilization, what is the natural state? the state of nature from which he has been removed? imagine, wandering up and down the forest without industry, without speech, and without home.

North America in 1492 was not a virgin wilderness but a network of Indigenous nations, peoples of the corn. The link between peoples of the North and the South can be seen in the diffusion of corn from Mesoamerica.

I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chains - I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs. I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar cane; I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs. I will go out until the day, until the morning break - Out to the wind's untainted kiss, the water's clean caress; I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket stake. I will revisit my lost love and playmates masterless!

I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera - the Panther - and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away; and because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan.

And it is I, Raksha [The Demon], who answers. The man's cub is mine, Lungri–mine to me! He shall not be killed. He shall live to run with the Pack and to hunt with the Pack; and in the end, look you, hunter of little naked cubs–frog-eater– fish-killer–he shall hunt thee!

Akela, the great gray Lone Wolf, who led all the Pack by strength and cunning, lay out at full length on his rock, and below him sat forty or more wolves of every size and color, from badger-colored veterans who could handle a buck alone to young black three-year-olds who thought they could. The

and when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.

Then the Kolokolo Bird said with a mournful cry, Go to the banks of the great, grey-green greasy Limpopo River, all set about with fever-trees, and find out.

I wish to eat, said Mowgli. I am a stranger in this part of the jungle. Bring me food, or give me leave to hunt here.

As he stood in the red light of the oil-lamp, strong, tall, and beautiful, his long black hair sweeping over his shoulders, the knife swinging at his neck, and his head crowned with a wreath of white jasmine, he might easily have been mistaken for some wild god of a jungle legend. -Son, she said at last,—her eyes were full of pride,—have any told thee that thou art beautiful beyond all men? Hah? said Mowgli, for naturally he had never heard anything of the kind.

Mowgli will drive Mowgli. Go back to thy people. Go to man. -Akela