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Jack London

The Iron Heel

  • Ali Alizadehцитируетв прошлом году
    The soft summer wind stirs the redwoods, and Wild-Water ripples sweet cadences over its mossy stones. There are butterflies in the sunshine, and from everywhere arises the drowsy hum of bees. It is so quiet and peaceful, and I sit here, and ponder, and am restless. It is the quiet that makes me restless. It seems unreal. All the world is quiet, but it is the quiet before the storm. I strain my ears, and all my senses, for some betrayal of that impending storm. Oh, that it may not be premature! That it may not be premature!*
  • Roza Nabiцитируетв прошлом году
    Your teeth are pulled, gentlemen. Your claws are trimmed. In the day you rise in your strength, toothless and clawless, you will be as harmless as any army of clams.
  • Roza Nabiцитируетв прошлом году
    Believe me, Joshua's task was easier, and he had Jehovah to help him. But God has forsaken you small capitalists. The sun of the small capitalists is setting. It will never rise again. Nor is it in your power even to make it stand still
  • Roza Nabiцитируетв прошлом году
    can no more make water run up hill than can you cause the tide of economic evolution to flow back in its channel along the way it came. Joshua made the sun stand still upon Gibeon, but you would outdo Joshua. You would make the sun go backward in the sky. You would have time retrace its steps from noon to morning.
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    I was able to take a calm interest. Death meant nothing, life meant nothing. I was an interested spectator of events, and, sometimes swept on by the rush, was myself a curious participant.
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    the put-a-put, put-a-put of rifles
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    rushing stream of human lava
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    I do not believe in hell-fire and brimstone; but in moments like this I regret my unbelief. Nay, in moments like this I almost do believe. Surely there must be a hell, for in no less place could it be possible for you to receive punishment adequate to your crimes. So long as you exist, there is a vital need for hell-fire in the Cosmos."
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    it's the being curious that makes life worth living."
  • b5825192143цитирует3 года назад
    "Joy upon joy and gain upon gain

    Are the destined rights of my birth,

    And I shout the praise of my endless days

    To the echoing edge of the earth.

    Though I suffer all deaths that a man can die

    To the uttermost end of time,

    I have deep-drained this, my cup of bliss,

    In every age and clime—

    "The froth of Pride, the tang of Power,

    The sweet of Womanhood!

    I drain the lees upon my knees,

    For oh, the draught is good;

    I drink to Life, I drink to Death,

    And smack my lips with song,

    For when I die, another 'I' shall pass the cup along.

    "The man you drove from Eden's grove

    Was I, my Lord, was I,

    And I shall be there when the earth and the air

    Are rent from sea to sky;

    For it is my world, my gorgeous world,

    The world of my dearest woes,

    From the first faint cry of the newborn

    To the rack of the woman's throes.

    "Packed with the pulse of an unborn race,

    Torn with a world's desire,

    The surging flood of my wild young blood

    Would quench the judgment fire.

    I am Man, Man, Man, from the tingling flesh

    To the dust of my earthly goal,

    From the nestling gloom of the pregnant womb

    To the sheen of my naked soul.

    Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh

    The whole world leaps to my will,

    And the unslaked thirst of an Eden cursed

    Shall harrow the earth for its fill.

    Almighty God, when I drain life's glass

    Of all its rainbow gleams,

    The hapless plight of eternal night

    Shall be none too long for my dreams.

    "The man you drove from Eden's grove

    Was I, my Lord, was I,

    And I shall be there when the earth and the air

    Are rent from sea to sky;

    For it is my world, my gorgeous world,

    The world of my dear delight,

    From the brightest gleam of the Arctic stream

    To the dusk of my own love-night."
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