He was sounding the deeps of his nature, and of the parts of his nature that were deeper than he, going back into the womb of Time.
Interpretation
The quote reflects the exploration of one's inner self and the deeper connections to existence and time.
Jack London's quote suggests a profound introspection into the very essence of one's being, indicating that true understanding lies not just within the surface but also in the depths of one's nature and the historical context that shapes it. The phrase 'going back into the womb of Time' evokes the idea of reconnecting with the roots of existence and the collective experiences of humanity that influence personal identity.
In practice
In a discussion about personal growth during a seminar, one might say, 'As Jack London reflected on the depths of nature, we too must explore our own inner selves.'
The hand descended. Nearer and nearer it came. It touched the ends of his upstanding hair. He shrank down under it. It followed down after him, pressing more closely against him. Shrinking, almost shivering. He still managed to hold himself together. It was a torment, this hand that touched him and violated his instinct. He could not forget in a day all the evil that had been wrought him at the hands of men.
He became quicker of movement than the other dogs, swifter of foot, craftier, deadlier, more lithe, more lean with ironlike muscle and sinew, more enduring, more cruel more ferocious, and more intelligent. He had to become all these things, else he would not have held his own nor survived the hostile environment in which he found himself.
But it did not all happen in a day, this giving over of himself, body and soul, to the man-animals. He could not immediately forego his wild heritage and his memories of the Wild. There were days when he crept to the edge of the forest and stood and listened to something calling him far and away.
Of her own experience she had no memory of the thing happening; but in her instinct, which was the experience of all mothers of wolves, there lurked a memory of fathers that had eaten their new-born and helpless progeny.
Had the cub thought in man-fashion, he might have epitomized life as a voracious appetite, and the world as a place wherein ranged a multitude of appetites, pursuing and being pursued, hunting and being hunted, eating and being eaten, all in blindness and confusion, with violence and disorder, a chaos of gluttony and slaughter, ruled over by chance, merciless, planless, endless.
I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.
Worthless is the nation that does not gladly stake its all on its honor.
There is nothing respecting which a man may be so long unconscious as of the extent and strength of his prejudices.
In a dream you are never eighty.
You have to give this much to the Luftwaffe: when it knocked down our buildings it did not replace them with anything more offensive than rubble. We did that.
The analysis of concepts is for the understanding nothing more than what the magnifying glass is for sight
My spiritual pain is unbearable. I keep having the same unsolved question: if my rifle claimed people's lives, then can it be that I a Christian and an Orthodox believer, was to blame for their deaths?
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