And At The Instant He Knew, He

The Aim Of Life Was Meat. Life Itself Was Meat. Life Lived On Life. There Were The Eaters And The Eaten.

You Have Grudged The Very Fire In Your House Because The Wood Cost Overmuch!" He Cried. "you Have Grudged Life. To Live Cost Overmuch, And You Have Refused To Pay The Price. Your Life Has Been Like A Cabin Where The Fire Is Out And There Are No Blankets On The Floor." He Signaled To A Slave To Fill His Glass, Which He Held Aloft. "but I Have Lived. And I Have Been Warm With Life As You Have Never Been Warm. It Is True, You Shall Live Long. But The Longest Nights Are The Cold Nights When A Man Shivers And Lies Awake. My Nights Have Been Short, But I Have Slept Warm

With The Aurora Borealis Flaming Coldly Overhead, Or The Stars Leaping In The Frost Dance, And The Land Numb And Frozen Under Its Pall Of Snow, This Song Of The Huskies Might Have Been The Defiance Of Life, Only It Was Pitched In Minor Key, With Long-drawn Wailings And Half-sobs, And Was More The Pleading Of Life, The Articulate Travail Of Existence. It Was An Old Song, Old As The Breed Itself--one Of The First Songs Of The Younger World In A Day When Songs Were Sad.

Alcohol Tells Truth, But Its Truth Is Not Normal.

He Had No Conscious Knowledge Of Death, But Like Every Animal Of The Wild, He Possessed The Instinct Of Death. To Him It Stood As The Greatest Of Hurts. It Was The Very Essence Of The Unknown; It Was The Sum Of The Terrors Of The Unknown, The One Culminating And Unthinkable Catastrophe That Could Happen To Him, About Which He Knew Nothing And About Which He Feared Everything.