Michael Brother of Jerry Quotes

“I have indeed lived life in a very rough school and have seen more than the average man's share of inhumanity and cruelty, from the forecastle and the prison, the slum and the desert, the execution-chamber and the lazar-house, to the battlefield and the military hospital. I have seen horrible deaths and mutilations. I have seen imbeciles hanged, because, being imbeciles, they did not possess the hire of lawyers. I have seen the hearts and stamina of strong men broken, and I have seen other men, by ill-treatment, driven to permanent and howling madness. I have witnessed the deaths of old and young, and even infants, from sheer starvation. I have seen men and women beaten by whips and clubs and fists, and I have seen the rhinoceros-hide whips laid around the naked torsos of black boys so heartily that each stroke stripped away the skin in full circle. And yet, let me add finally, never have I been so appalled and shocked by the world's cruelty as have I been appalled and shocked in the midst of happy, laughing, and applauding audiences when trained-animal turns were being performed on the stage.”
― Jack London, Michael Brother of Jerry

“What it was all about—why he was kept in his cramped prison in the cramped car—he did not ask himself.  He accepted it as unhappiness and misery, and had no more explanation for it than for the crushing of the paw.  Such things happened.  It was life, and life had many evils.  The why of things never entered his head.  He knew things and some small bit of the how of things.  What was, was.  Water was wet, fire hot, iron hard, meat good.  He accepted such things as he accepted the everlasting miracles of the light and of the dark, which were no miracles to him any more than was his wire coat a miracle, or his beating heart, or his thinking brain.”
― Jack London, Michael, Brother of Jerry

“Steward, Daughtry.  Mr. Daughtry, friend, sir, or whatever I may name you, this is no fairy-story of the open boat, the cross-bearings unnamable, and the treasure a fathom under the sand.  This is real.  I have a heart.  That, sir”—here he waved his extended hand under Daughtry’s nose—“is my hand.  There is only one thing you may do, must do, right now.  You must take that hand in your hand, and shake it, with your heart in your hand as mine is in my hand.” “But . . . but. . . ” Daughtry faltered. “If you don’t, then I shall not depart from this place.  I shall remain here, die here.  I know you are a leper.  You can’t tell me anything about that.  There’s my hand.  Are you going to take it?  My heart is there in the palm of it, in the pulse in every finger-end of it.  If you don’t take it, I warn you I’ll sit right down here in this chair and die.  I want you to understand I am a man, sir, a gentleman.  I am a friend, a comrade.  I am no poltroon of the flesh.  I live in my heart and in my head, sir—not in this feeble carcass I cursorily inhabit.  Take that hand.  I want to talk with you afterward.”
― Jack London, Michael, Brother of Jerry