| Quote | Author | Source |
| While the world crashed to ruin about them and all the air was filled with the smoke of its burning, these low creatures gave rein to their bestiality and fought and drank and died. And after all, what did it matter? Everybody died anyway, the good and the bad, the efficients and the weaklings, those that loved to live and those that scorned to live. They passed. Everything passed.
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| With the coming of the Scarlet Death the world fell apart, absolutely, irretrievably. Ten thousand years of culture and civilization passed in the twinkling of an eye, 'lapsed like foam.'
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| "It was amazing, astounding, this loss of communication with the world. It was exactly as if the world had ceased, been blotted out."
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| "I sometimes think the most wonderful achievement of our tremendous civilization was food—its inconceivable abundance, its infinite variety, its marvellous delicacy. O my grandsons, life was life in those days, when we had such wonderful things to eat."
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| "2012," he shrilled, and then fell to cackling grotesquely. "That was the year Morgan the Fifth was appointed President of the United States by the Board of Magnates. It must have been one of the last coins minted, for the Scarlet Death came in 2013. Lord! Lord!—think of it!"
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| All things pass. Only remain cosmic force and matter, ever in flux, ever acting and reacting and realizing the eternal types—the priest, the soldier, and the king. Out of the mouths of babes comes the wisdom of all the ages. Some will fight, some will rule, some will pray; and all the rest will toil and suffer sore while on their bleeding carcasses is reared again, and yet again, without end, the amazing beauty and surpassing wonder of the civilized state.
| Jack London | The Scarlet Plague |
| Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean towards each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land.
| Jack London | White Fang |
| He was a ferocious man. He had been ill-made in the making. He had not been born right, and he had not been helped any by the moulding he had received at the hands of society. The hands of society are harsh, and this man was a striking sample of its handiwork.
| Jack London | White Fang |
| There was about him a suggestion of lurking ferocity, as though the Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.
| Jack London | White Fang |
| One cannot violate the promptings of one's nature without having that nature recoil upon itself.
| Jack London | White Fang |
