1 They'd sooner eat grub than be grub.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 1: CHAPTER I THE TRAIL OF THE MEAT 2 White Fang's natural impulse was to eat it.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 5: CHAPTER III THE GOD'S DOMAIN 3 Henry stopped eating to glance across the fire and count the dogs.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 1: CHAPTER I THE TRAIL OF THE MEAT 4 Later, when he had grown more formidable, he wanted to eat the hawk.
5 At last the time came that he decided to eat the meat from the hand.
6 Nor did he speak till he had taken his seat on the coffin and begun to eat.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 1: CHAPTER I THE TRAIL OF THE MEAT 7 White Fang, sliding by in quest of meat, stopped and began to eat the chips.
8 He knew clearly what was to be done, and this he did by promptly eating the ptarmigan.
9 They were meat, and it was hungry; and it would like to go in and eat them if it dared.
10 As his teeth crunched through the tender flesh and fragile bones, he began naturally to eat.
11 The days passed by, and they kept together, hunting their meat and killing and eating it in common.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 2: CHAPTER I THE BATTLE OF THE FANGS 12 They reminded him of children gathered about a spread table and awaiting permission to begin to eat.
13 It was better to eat small live things like ptarmigan chicks, and to let alone large live things like ptarmigan hens.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 2: CHAPTER IV THE WALL OF THE WORLD 14 So White Fang could only eat his heart in bitterness and develop a hatred and malice commensurate with the ferocity and indomitability of his nature.
White Fang By Jack LondonContextHighlight In PART 4: CHAPTER I THE ENEMY OF HIS KIND 15 It was on this adventure that he found the young weasel whose mother he had helped eat, and he saw to it that the young weasel went the way of its mother.
16 There it stands, on its two hind-legs, club in hand, immensely potential, passionate and wrathful and loving, god and mystery and power all wrapped up and around by flesh that bleeds when it is torn and that is good to eat like any flesh.
17 Had the cub thought in man-fashion, he might have epitomised 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.
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