“But especially he loved to run in the dim twilight of the summer midnights, listening to the subdued and sleepy murmurs of the forest, reading signs and sounds as a man may read a book, and seeking for the mysterious something that called—called, waking or sleeping, at all times, for him to come.”
More from Jack London
“He loved with single heart and refused to cheapen himself or his love.”
“The human soul is a lonely thing.”
“It is not in what you succeed in doing that you get your joy, but in the doing of it.”
“Sometimes they went hungry, sometimes they feasted riotously, all according to the…”