Quotation from: White FangWritten by: Jack London |
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Yet again, in this new orientation, it was the thumb of circumstance that pressed and prodded him, softening that which had become hard and remoulding it into fairer form. Weedon Scott was in truth this thumb. He had gone to the roots of White Fang's nature, and with kindness touched to life potencies that had languished and well-nigh perished. One such potency was _love_. It took the place of _like_, which latter had been the highest feeling that thrilled him in his intercourse with the gods.
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