Then one can't make a living out of poetry?" "Certainly not. What fool expects to? Out of rhyming, yes. - Jack London

The Wild still lingered in him and the wolf in him merely slept.

"He cut short my request for something to eat, snapping out, "I don't believe you want to work."
Now this was irrelevant. I hadn't said anything about work. The topic of conversation I had introduced was "food." In fact, I didn't want to work. I wanted to take the westbound overland that night."

"The cap'n is Wolf Larsen, or so men call him. I never heard his other name. But you better speak soft with him. He is mad this morning. The mate-" But he did not finish. The cook had glided in.