Quotes About Wolves

Wolves and those who see them are shot on sight.

On gizzards of gulls, hawks and owls, The heat of lizards, spurs of fowls, Bones of pigs, air-sacs of eagles, Moaning dingos, barking beagles; Sleek opossums, prickly hedgehogs, Buffaloes, dormice, wolves and dogs

Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey. —LORD BYRON

If once they become inattentive to the public affairs, you and I, and Congress, and Assemblies, judges and governors shall all become wolves. It seems to be the law of our general nature, in spite of individual exceptions; and experience declares that man is the only animal which devours his own kind. Jefferson

Wolves rarely attack humans, and they do not howl at the moon. (There is no record of a nonrabid wolf killing a human in North America since the arrival of Europeans.)" They are neither innate cowards nor wanton killers.

Wolves and people were not natural enemies. The humans' relationship with other animals established their rivalry with wolves.

They destroyed wolves for a host of pragmatic reasons: to safeguard livestock, to knit local ecosystems into global capitalist markets, to collect state-sponsored bounties, and to rid the world of beasts they considered evil, wild, corrupt, and duplicitous.

To overpower savagery one must lash out savagely. In their stories Euro-American colonists invented and broadcast a vision of wolves as threats to human safety. They then modeled their behavior on the ferocity they perceived in wolves. Thus folklore explains not only why humans destroyed wolves but why they did so with such cruel enthusiasm.

They saluted the last wolves. Sure, they devoured property, but they did so with enthusiasm and panache. The animals had to die, but the humans felt nostalgic about their passing.

wolves are so frightening not because of their fangs and claws but because of their intelligence, because of their hunger.

The real problem is that humans do not yet know enough about wolves, even though these animals have been intensively studied now for more than forty years. This means that there are no "wolf experts." Instead, there are some people who know a good deal about wolves, but there is no one person who knows ALL about them.

The American president had allowed the old order to topple without a viable alternative in place, a reckless act with no precedent in modern statecraft. And for some reason he had chosen this moment in time to throw Israel to the wolves.

What about the other two percent? They were aggressive sociopaths. They were apparently having a good time. (At least that is the conclusion of two World War II researchers, Swank and Marchand. But recent research shows that that two percent breaks down into wolves and sheepdogs, which we will discuss later in the book.)

So small a spirit, to lodge such sorrows as mankind has brought you. Live…live….Wait for me, new, frightened soul. And though the world should reel to a puny death, and the wolves are appointed our godfathers, I will not fail you, ever.

He gasped in terror at what sounded like a man trying to gargle while fighting off a pack of wolves.

It was not that intelligent life was rare, it seemed, but that intelligent life was very, very prone to becoming extinct. Almost as if something was deliberately wiping it out. The wolves were the missing element in the puzzle, the agency responsible for the extinctions. Implacable, infinitely patient machines, they homed in on the signs of intelligence and enacted a terrible, crushing penalty. Hence, a lonely, silent galaxy, patrolled only by watchful machine sentries.

What are men but hungry wolves, a prowling on the heath? If in a pack of wolves you hunt, you'd better sharp your teeth.

More importantly, modern dogs simply don't behave like modern wolves. Popular dog "experts" like Cesar Millan may tell you that a good dog owner needs to play the role of the alpha wolf, the dominant pack leader. But the fact is that dogs don't live in hierarchically organized packs. Indeed it's doubtful that most wolves live this way.

Call it inevitable, call it the doomed fate of love. Call it karmic, fucked up, the dance of the wolves. Live it, love it, call it life. Call it Led Zeppelin. Yeah, yeah. Really, I don't really, really don't fucking care.

A shrieking battle cry echoed on the wind, a spine-tingling scream that sounded like the baying of the wolves closing in on their prey.

Atención -decía Bobby Thompson-. Éste es uno de los lobos que camina entre ustedes.

Sus rostros eran absolutamente similares en un detalle: parecían extremadamente incompletos, como cuadros con agujeros por ojos o como un rompecabezas al que le faltase una pieza nimia. Y eso que echaba en falta, pensó Richards, era el aire de desesperación. En sus estómagos no aullaban los lobos. Sus mentes no estaban llenas de sueños viciados, de esperanzas insensatas.

I am Welcomed in the Home of Ravens and Other Scavengers in the Wake of Warriors," Ringil recited for him, hollowly. "I am Friend to Carrion Crows and Wolves. I am Carry Me and Kill with Me, and Die with Me Where the Road Ends. I am not the Honeyed Promise of Length of Life in Years to Come, I am the Iron Promise of Never Being a Slave.

Furthermore, there's marshland on the other side of these hills. No one can even live near it, because the mist produces ill humors. Ill humors? Yes.The entire place is encircled in thick forest, too. She lowered her voice. They say there are wolves there,the size of humans. I like wolves, Dougal said mildly. The larger, the better. She blinked. They're great sport for hunting. And I am an avid hunter. He glanced across her, lingering at certain areas. As you may have guessed.