Quotes About Wildness

At least he was choosing who wielded power over him. There was a wildness to the thought, a freedom, that set him alight as much as it chilled him to the core.

We name us and then we are lost, tamed I choose words, more words, to cure the tameness, not the wildness

this new frontier is characterized by at least five trends: a severance of the public and private mind from our food's origins; a disappearing line between machines, humans, and other animals; an increasingly intellectual understanding of our relationship with other animals; the invasion of our cities by wild animals (even as urban/suburban designers replace wildness with synthetic nature); and the rise of a new kind of suburban form.

Although they follow and are dependent on human activities, their cussedness and refusal to play by our rules makes them subversive, and the very essence of wildness.

He glanced at her, his hair wild and his eyes red. 'May I give ye pleasure?' Still a gentleman. Emma smiled. But his voice sounded gruff and his appearance was that of an untamed barbarian. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and pulled his head close to hers. 'Make me scream.' His eyes gleamed hotter. 'Ye will. Many times ere the night is over.

The stallion and his mare, unbridled, with arrow-pattern, are worked on. the blue cloth before the door of religion and inspiration.

I may drink too much and play too loud, hang out with a rough and rowdy crowd. That don't mean I don't respect my mama or Uncle Sam.

The line of Nature is crooked ... though we dig the canal beds as straight as we can, the rivers run hither and thither in their wildness.

I've read and heard a lot of unbelievable stuff about those times when people lived in freedom -- that is, in disorganized wildness.

The look on her face in the empty lot—that blankness—and then, later, in the sessions, the warring of contempt, wildness, casual vulnerability, and vehemence, strength. That had laid him low. That had expanded until it hooked into the whole of him, no part of him not committed.

Never is a wolf more dangerous than when he is in a cage.

i wish i were a girl again, half savage and hardy, and free... (catherine, ch. XII, p. 125)

Pa ni prva junakinja tog imena [Catherine] nije bez odre?ene ?udne ljepote u svojem divljaštvu, niti je nepoštena usred izopa?ene strasti i strastvene izopa?enosti.

One of the things that seems absolutely clear to me about werewolves - with their canine makeup - is that they would be dogs, as it were.

Only a fool thinks a lion or a woman can truly be tamed.

Only a fool thinks a lion or a woman can truly be tamed. Irritably

There are times, Anne dearie, when I know by your eyes that YOUR soberness is put on like a garment and you're really aching to do something wild and young again.

Gray Donohue was a fierce and hungry beast.His hair was wild,his eyes narrowed,his face contorted into a mask of diabolical intensity.And then that face descended on hers and his mouth claimed her in a ravenous kiss.As his cock worked in and out of her pussy,as his tongue fucked the inside of her mouth,Dillon knew this was something beyond what she was capable of,beyond what her tiny scrap of an unbeating heart could ever hold on to.

God's wildness lies the hope of the world—the great fresh, unblighted, unredeemed wilderness.

To be whole. To be complete. Wildness reminds us what it means to be human, what we are connected to rather than what we are separate from.

She was too young, too soft and new, to come to terms with these wild beings whose minds veered at crazy angles from the short, straight, smooth lines of her own experience.

Made us nobly wild, not mad.

A lion is at liberty who can follow the laws of his own nature, who can eat when his stomach tells him, who can sleep when his fierce eyes grow weary, who can scratch long furrows in a forest tree when his claws feel so disposed. He is not at liberty when he lives in a cage, is fed on horseflesh at 4 p.m., and is compelled at the point of a red-hot poker to spell P-I-G – PIG, in the presence of a diverted crowd.

My trouble seems [. . .] to be to bring together in me the Puritanical iron hand of constraint and the gushes of pure wildness. One can't survive or write without both but they need to come to terms.