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.
Interpretation
This quote emphasizes the importance of living passionately and fully rather than merely existing.
Jack London's quote expresses a deep desire for a life that is vibrant, impactful, and intense. He contrasts the idea of a mundane, unremarkable existence with the notion of a life that burns brightly and makes a significant mark on the world. London believes that it is better to live a short, but extraordinary life filled with purpose and passion, rather than dragging on in a dull and unfulfilling way. He urges individuals to actively use their time to create meaning and experiences rather than simply prolonging their lives without purpose.
In practice
In a motivational speech about pursuing dreams.
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.
His bondage had softened him. Irresponsibility had weakened him. He had forgotten how to shift for himself. The night yawned about him.
One can stand anything except a succession of ordinary days
When doctors tell you that you have three weeks to live, you try to live a lifetime of moments in three weeks. But you say, 'To hell with three weeks.'
What is poor? We had food. We dressed well. We didn't have a lot, but what we had fit, and it was always neat.
Youth is full of sport, age's breath is short; youth is nimble, age is lame; Youth is hot and bold, age is weak and cold; Youth is wild, and age is tame.
After the pain of this disappointment her heart once more stood empty, and the succession of identical days began again.
He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.
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