Hunting Quotes

“I'd never understood why hurting animals for fun was considered an early warning sign of serial killer behavior, while fishing and hunting were seen as healthy male bonding activities.”
― Jack Heath, Headcase

“Come now,' I said to him, 'and let us go and risk our lives unnecessarily. For if they have got any value at all it is this that they have got none. Frei lebt wer sterben kann.”
― Karen Blixen, Out of Africa

“For a split moment, time stopped as I was faced with the rugged beauty of my mother. There she stood in her tattered dress, her bare feet almost completely
buried in the sand. Across her shoulder lay two skinned rabbits, which she had captured for us to eat. In her hand, she carried a single, tallow candle, which was stubbornly sparking its fire into the sky.”
― Susan L. Marshall, Adira and the Dark Horse

“To share fear is the greatest bond of all. The hunter must become the thing he hunts. What is, is now, must have the quivering intensity of an arrow thudding into a tree. Yesterday is dim and monochrome. A week ago you were not born.”
― J.A. Baker, The Peregrine

“The only clear pattern I’ve seen is that, whether the hunting party is led by a pagan god, a demon, or a ghost, it’s always bad luck to see it. Some say it’s an omen of death.”
“Oh, I’m so glad we saw it, then.” Stacey shook her head and went back to work.”
― J.L. Bryan, The Lodge

“Tamlin broke the silence. 'Feyre likes to hunt.'

'I don't like to hunt.' I should have probably used a more polite tone, but I went on. 'I hunted out of necessity. And how did you know that?'

Tamlin's stare was bald, assessing. 'Why else were you in the woods that day? You had a bow and arrows in your... house.' I wondered whether he'd almost said hovel. 'When I saw your father's hands, I knew he wasn't the one using them.' He gestured to my scarred, calloused hands. 'You told him about the rations and money from pelts. Faeries might be many things, but we're not stupid. Unless your ridiculous legends claim that about us, too.'

Ridiculous, insignificant.

I stared at the crumbs of bread and swirls of remaining sauce on my golden plate. Had I been home, I would have licked my plate clean, desperate for any extra bit of nourishment. And the plates... I could have bought a team of horses, a plow, and a field for just one of them. Disgusting.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Hunting is not a sport

Unless, of course, you’re hunting a fellow hunter who also has a gun. Now you’ve got yourselves a contest.”
― Kitty Flanagan, More Rules for Life: A special volume for enthusiasts

“Like most young officers who were not nervously or physically broken by it, I enjoyed the War, or rather let me hasten to say, that part of it that was hectically lived out of gunshot. I was entirely thoughtless and prejudiced; accepted everything that came; reviling those whom the majority reviled; hating those I had never seen simply because everyone else did so; doing towards those I did not hate acts which were considered glorious and noble. After the Armistice, in an existence of inactivity and disintegration, I began to believe that this same attitude of mind which endowed glory and nobility to the acts which helped to make the World War was the very mental attitude that had made such a thing possible.
This may appear mere sophistry, and a far jump from the logic of hunting to kill. Personally, I feel that the animals we hunt to kill are so near us in sense-feeling and joy of life, that it distresses me to see, for instance, an otter swimming slower and slower in shallow water between two lines of sportsmen barring the way up or down river. My feeling is then to join myself with the fatigued beast, and help him break a way to freedom. This feeling is of course thwarted, and my feelings are concealed: the feelings that a little creature is being bullied, shortly to be broken before my eyes, and, silent with cowardice, I do nothing to help him. My friends may say, ‘If you feel like that, why do you go otter-hunting?’ If I were candid I would reply that I went otter-hunting to see a certain girl, and talk to her, and try and convince her that I was a nice person, but very lonely. (12–14)”
― Henry Williamson, The Wild Red Deer Of Exmoor - A Digression On The Logic And Ethics And Economics Of Stag-Hunting In England To-Day

“Few things taste better or deliver a more unalloyed experience than wild game we have killed, cleaned, and cooked ourselves (especially grouse, woodcock, teal, wood ducks - birds that simply cannot be domesticated, pen reared, or artificially farmed in any way, shape, or form.) Yet we also realize that, depending on one's degree of personal sensitivity, capacity for ironic reflection, or susceptibility to guilt, there is always that signal moment, when the dog delivers a dead bird to hand, that can occasion a haunting, unresolvable mix of "self-satisfaction and self-reproach," as Texas-born novelist William Humphrey says in Open Season: Sporting Adventures (1986), because "you hold in your hand the creature you both love and love to kill.”
― Robert DeMott, Afield: American Writers on Bird Dogs

“Save a life, shoot a camera.”
― Kirk Wolcott, A Simple Game

“Semua buku prasejarah adalah data sekunder bagiku.
Aku butuh data primer, yang kuperoleh dengan cara bertualang dan memburu jejak prasejarah.

~

All prehistoric books are secondary data to me. I need primary data, which I obtained by adventuring and hunting prehistoric traces.”
― Toba Beta, Master of Stupidity

“Tigers don’t hunt in groups. They attach solitary. Hence however realistic this dance is, it is still faulty as they failed to understand the apex predator they are imitating.”
― Vamsidhar Chaturvedula, Fight Story : Life Will Always Be a Fight Between Destiny and Will

“I move around hungry, sniffing the moonlight, drifting around the hills, hunting for you, your passionate kisses, like a cougar prowling in the streets at Midnight.”
― Avijeet Das

“Hallucination Country by Stewart Stafford

A furious tribe of leaves,
Chased a logging truck,
As forked flames waved,
From a burning backyard tree.

A half-eaten unicorn in a ditch,
A warning from hunters nearby,
Slaughtering fairytale creatures,
Cryptids were their mint targets.

An abandoned Volkswagen car lay,
Half-overturned, underbelly exposed,
The injured driver, now hitchhiking,
With a spree killer or tow-truck driver.

© Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“Killings animals and the naga had been one thing, but killing any others...

I took several deep breaths, bracing myself. It was the same as hunting. Only this time the animals were faeries. Faeries who could torture me endlessly- torture me until I begged for death. Torture me the way they tormented the Summer Court faerie whose wings had been ripped off.”
― Sarah J. Maas, A Court of Thorns and Roses

“Humans are the only species that destroy anything and everything they do not have a need for or don't understand!”
― June Stoyer

“The mere details of a hunting story can be boresome. So I’ll cut the details short. King finally found a covey, and I doubled. He found another, and I doubled again. He found three more before quitting time, and I doubled behind each find! Five coveys. Five doubles. Then birds. I shall never forget the thrill of those five doubles in succession, to finish out that season of zero weather, as good old King produced those much-needed birds at the eleventh hour.”
― Horace Lytle, Gun Dogs Afield

“Killing "for sport" is the perfect type of that pure evil for which metaphysicians have sometimes sought. Most wicked deeds are done because the doer proposes some good to himself ... [but] the killer for sport has no such comprehensible motive. He prefers death to life, darkness to light. He gets nothing except the satisfaction of saying, "Something that wanted to live is dead. There is that much less vitality, consciousness, and, perhaps, joy in the universe. I am the Spirit that Denies.”
― Joseph Wood Krutch, The Great Chain of Life

“For this pitiful kill leopard would have to pay with his life”
― Jim Corbett, Man-eating Leopard of Rudraprayag

“Look out! Here he comes!” Tom yelled, as the wounded lion broke loose from the dogs and bounded through the snow right toward us. We dared not shoot, for the dogs were right in line, and we couldn’t run. We froze in our tracks, ready to shoot at point-blank range if necessary.”
― Elliott S. Barker, When The Dogs Bark 'Treed'

“The true hunter does not exist to hunt, he exists to fulfill the relationships he has with the world, with the land, his family, his dreams and whatever he is doing at that moment. When the hunter achieves balance, he finds what he is hunting for, and the moment when the photo is captured, the arrow released, is like letting out breath – it is inevitable, effortless.”
― Carlisle Rogers, The Philosophy of Travel

“Crypto Cryptid by Stewart Stafford

There's no point in hunting beasts,
When you're the game you seek,
Idle trigger finger behind the gun,
Leave carcasses rotting in the sun.

Billions springing from blood;
From gushing oil to a crypto flood,
Cutthroat games played to the hilt,
Philanthropy, as rich boy's guilt.

Bought your justice and rude health,
Faux angelic in Faustian wealth,
Scalpel wielded for everything's price,
Trophy mansions rank with vice.

© Stewart Stafford, 2023. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“This new hunting ideology would have opened the floodgates to all kinds of aggression. What else or who else could we take over and bend to our will? Plants, trees, entire forests, mountains, lakes, rivers, even the animals in the sea. No aggression was off limits any more. We were no longer Homo Sapiens. We became Homo Bully.
This new mentality would also ensure future technology was used for aggression rather than peace.”
― Danny Nichols, Cops Don't Kill K9 Cops, Do They?: The Deadly Bad Habit Cops Don't Want You to Read About

“So where did we go wrong? When did we become the aggressors, the bullies? When we think about it deeply, it’s easy to conclude it must have been when some humans decided to do planned hunting. Up to that time we still would have been living naturally, as the herbivores we are. When we made the conscious, sadistic, ideological choice to not leave others alone to live their lives and attack them for no reason, we became an unnatural herbivorous “predator”. We didn’t need to kill or eat other animals. We wanted to.”
― Danny Nichols , Cops Don't Kill K9 Cops, Do They?: The Deadly Bad Habit Cops Don't Want You to Read About

“Mushroom hunting in Provence is veiled in secrecy, second only to truffle hunting in the level of dissimulation and suspicion it inspires. If you are lucky enough to find a good spot, you might unearth skinny yellow and black trompettes de la mort (trumpets of death) or flat meaty pleurots (oyster mushrooms) or even small spongelike black morels. If you are not sure exactly what you've found, you can take your basket to the local pharmacy, and the pharmacist will help you sort the culinary from the potentially deadly--- it's part of their training.”
― Elizabeth Bard, Picnic in Provence: A Memoir with Recipes

“Hunting a predator was the supreme challenge: It forced the predator to admit that it too was hunted. A true survival of the fittest, he thought.
From «A Lion Roars in Longyearbyen»”
― Margrét Helgadóttir

“Guardian Of The Forest by Stewart Stafford

Follow the stag, a voice whispered,
For he is the guardian of the forest,
Fleeing danger to well-worn tracks,
Rejuvenating stream water sheen.

Pulchritudinous spiked crown atop,
Surveying all subjects of his realm,
From snow-capped ermine peaks,
Defying resistance of challengers.

Hunters inch closer to their quarry,
In bloodlust desecration, blinded,
To the martyred immortal nobility,
Soaring to the Heavens in rebirth.

© Stewart Stafford, 2024. All rights reserved.”
― Stewart Stafford

“This is not a hunting expedition, Thomas said. "I merely mean to converse with my bride-to-be."
Paul scoffed, "Is that so? And here I thought you intended to woo the girl."
Thomas shift Risking another glance in  Charlotte's direction. "That too.”
― Maggie Dallen, The Mischievous Miss Charlotte

“Siberia is more of a state of mind than a place to live. Ever heard of Hysteria Siberiana? Farmers would plow the field all alone in the tundra. If they turn towards the east, it is a horizon; to the west, it is a horizon; in every direction, there are snow-cladded plains and exploding trees. A perfect cuff-off location near the pole. Days and nights are the same. Sometimes the farmers would walk towards the pole just to find the sun, day and night, like a possessed devil with no food, water, or shelter, only to collapse in the cold and die without pain. This is Hysteria Siberiana.”
― Oren Tamira, counter-strike: An anthology of dalit short stories

“When you begin to learn how to not hunt birds, nor trample on plants, then you are ready to save humanity.”
― Michael Bassey Johnson, These Words Pour Like Rain