Wolf Quotes

“To love pleasure takes little. To love truly takes a hero who can manage his own fear.”
― Clarissa Pinkola Estés, Women Who Run With the Wolves

“Somewhere in the distance a wolf could be howling, but he decides not to. This particular wolf is by nature quiet and doesn't wish to blindly conform to stereotype.”
― Richard Ayoade, Ayoade on Ayoade: A Cinematic Odyssey

“I met the wolf alone and was devoured in peace.”
― Edna St. Vincent Millay, Collected Poems

“You have the eyes of a wolf-girl whose heart has never once been moved. When I press my ear to your chest, I hear only wind and emptiness.”
― Bae Suah, Nowhere to Be Found

“She watched him with her yellow eyes and in them was no despair but only that same reckonless deep of loneliness that cored the world to its heart.”
― Cormac McCarthy, The Crossing

“Just because the wolf pack fears your sling doesn’t mean you stop carrying stones.”
― Ed McDonald, Blackwing

“When you live with wolves, you learn to howl,' he says . . . 'the wolf is dangerous, and the howl is a kind of pain. If you spend too much time around people whose souls are hurting, eventually your soul starts to cry out too.”
― Akemi Dawn Bowman, Harley in the Sky

“She turned to face the door, knowing what she would find instead.

"What big eyes you have," she whispered.

"The better to see through your lies," he said.

"What large hands you have..."

"The better to strangle you with, my dear..."

"What sharp teeth you have..."

"The better to drink your blood with," he said with a laugh. "Is that what you expect me to say? I know this story better than you do. The wolf wins in my version."

She thought of the black wolf she once knew in another life, a black wolf that never willingly left her side. "The wolf wins in mine, too.”
― Angela Panayotopulos, The Wake Up

“Most of the time he was simply Wolf: clever, inquisitive, and fiercely loyal. Sometimes he was the guide, with mysterious certainty in his amber eyes. Always he was a pack-brother.”
― Michelle Paver, Soul Eater

“I wonder how someone can leave in the blink of an eye without you even noticing.”
― Jodi Picoult, Lone Wolf

“Then, that memorably powerful look into my eyes told me something more: compared to dogs, wolves are grown-ups. He was not asking for help, head down, forehead wrinkled, as a dog might: “Is this right? What do you want?”
Instead, head high, gaze level, he was assessing me, like a poker player: “Are you in or out?” Judging that I was in, he made his move; and we both won. (p.6)”
― Karen Pryor, Reaching the Animal Mind: Clicker Training and What It Teaches Us About All Animals

“God made the wolf but man made the dog. When we look at a dog, we see the best in ourselves.”
― David Paul Kirkpatrick

“Her voice trailed off as she watched his tongue trace the outline of his lower lip. It was like watching a wolf taste the thrill of victory before a kill.”
― Grace Willows, General's Dawn

“If I hadn't left at that moment, I knew I would have stayed forever.”
― Jodi Picoult, Lone Wolf

“Love was the only thing in this world worth fighting for.”
― Celia McMahon, Unspoken

“Wolves don't perform in a circus, and people with a mind of their own, don't perform in a circus either.”
― Avijeet Das

“A strange structure untangled itself out of the background like a hallucination, not part of the natural landscape. It was a funny-shaped, almost spherical, green podlike thing woven from living branches of trees and vines. A trellis of vines hung down over the opening that served as a door.
Wendy was so delighted tears sprang to her eyes.
It was her Imaginary House!
They all had them. Michael wanted his to be like a ship with views of the sea. John had wanted to live like a nomad on the steppes. And Wendy... Wendy had wanted something that was part of the natural world itself.
She tentatively stepped forward, almost swooning at the heavy scent of the door flowers. Languorously lighting on them were a few scissorflies, silver and almost perfectly translucent in the glittery sunlight. Their sharp wings made little snickety noises as they fluttered off.
Her shadow made a few half-hearted attempts to drag back, pointing to the jungle. But Wendy ignored her, stepping into the hut.
She was immediately knocked over by a mad, barking thing that leapt at her from the darkness of the shelter.
"Luna!" Wendy cried in joy.
The wolf pup, which she had rescued in one of her earliest stories, stood triumphantly on her chest, drooling very visceral, very stinky dog spit onto her face.
"Oh, Luna! You're real!" Wendy hugged the gray-and-white pup as tightly as she could, and it didn't let out a single protest yelp.
Although...
"You're a bit bigger than I imagined," Wendy said thoughtfully, sitting up. "I thought you were a puppy."
Indeed, the wolf was approaching formidable size, although she was obviously not yet quite full-grown and still had large puppy paws. She was at least four stone and her coat was thick and fluffy. Yet she pranced back and forth like a child, not circling with the sly lope Wendy imagined adult wolves used.
You're not a stupid little lapdog, are you?" Wendy whispered, nuzzling her face into the wolf's fur. Luna chuffed happily and gave her a big wet sloppy lick across the cheek. "Let's see what's inside the house!"
As the cool interior embraced her, she felt a strange shudder of relief and... welcome was the only way she could describe it. She was home.
The interior was small and cozy; plaited sweet-smelling rush mats softened the floor. The rounded walls made shelves difficult, so macramé ropes hung from the ceiling, cradling halved logs or flat stones that displayed pretty pebbles, several beautiful eggs, and what looked like a teacup made from a coconut. A lantern assembled from translucent pearly shells sat atop a real cherry writing desk, intricately carved and entirely out of place with the rest of the interior.
Wendy picked up one of the pretty pebbles in wonder, turning it this way and that before putting it into her pocket.
"This is... me..." she breathed. She had never been there before, but it felt so secure and so right that it couldn't have been anything but her home. Her real home. Here there was no slight tension on her back as she waited for footsteps to intrude, for reality to wake her from her dreams; there was nothing here to remind her of previous days, sad or happy ones. There were no windows looking out at the gray world of London. There was just peace, and the scent of the mats, and the quiet droning of insects and waves outside.
"Never Land is a... mishmash of us. Of me," she said slowly. "It's what we imagine and dream of- including the dreams we can't quite remember.”
― Liz Braswell, Straight On Till Morning

“By the 1920’s, the wolves had been all but eliminated from the continental United States, except for a small population in northern Minnesota and Michigan’s upper peninsula. It was a campaign unprecedented in its scope and thoroughness. One species almost completely whipped out another. The impetus for the killing was clear enough, but as Barry Lopez asked in “Of Wolves and Men”, his seminal meditation on the fraught relationship between the two species, why did the pogrom continue, even after the threat to the westerner’s way of life was essentially gone? Why did our ancestors feel they had to rout out every last wolf, and why were hunters still so eager to shoot them in the few places they remained?
There was hate, Lopez decided, but there was something else, too. Something more akin to envy. Here is an animal capable of killing a man, an animal of legendary endurance and spirit, an animal that embodies marvelous integration within its environment. This is exactly what the frustrated modern hunter would like, the noble qualities imagined, a sense of fitting into the world. The hunter wants to be the wolf.”
― Nate Blakeslee, American Wolf

“It's okay, he says, it's ok, When we're gone, the wolves can have their homecoming”
― JOAN TIERNEY, September: A Map

“If ever I was to step foot back into Stormwall Castle, I would be a monster, and I would tear apart those who hurt me. Revenge was a wave, and I sank beneath it.”
― Celia McMahon, Unspoken

“There was darkness in my heart, and it spread like wildfire.”
― Celia McMahon, Unspoken

“Dropping to the ground faster than a sack of moldy potatoes, she covers her head with her arms, bracing herself for the pain of be-ing eaten.”
― Madeline C.C. Harper, The Return of Light

“There’s no pain, or even discomfort, which she’s happy about. If she should die, at least it shall be painless.”
― Madeline C.C. Harper, The Return of Light

“Placing her palm against the nearby spruce covered in fluffy white snow, Denyse bowed her head knowing the decision being made was one she didn't want to make. She needed Joseph, and so far, he's proved that he'll be there to make sure no one else got hurt.”
― Sarah Stein, Captive

“Sasha's fear was what kept her moving. All while she chanted in her head. Run. Don't look back. Run. Don't get caught.”
― Sarah Stein, Damaged

“A possessive and a wolf are unfit for love”
― Dr.P.S. Jagadeesh Kumar

“The last word had barely left my lips before he leaned in and pressed his mouth to mine. A protest died on my lips and I grabbed his waist, pulling him closer. His hands cupped my face as his lips crashed against mine.”
― Celia McMahon, Unspoken

“The princess with stars in her eyes and darkness in her heart, you will bring nothing but death!” she cried out.”
― Celia McMahon, Unspoken

“The landscapes where beavers can do the most good aren’t always ready for them. Environmental need and political opportunity don’t necessarily overlap, especially in the American West - witness the wolf, at once ecological hero and agricultural villain.”
― Ben Goldfarb

“La paura è davvero la malattia del nostro tempo: paura del nemico, dello straniero, del vicino, di noi stessi, della violenza, dell'amore e di qualsiasi altra cosa.”
― Elli H. Radinger, Die Weisheit der Wölfe: Wie sie denken, planen, füreinander sorgen. Erstaunliches über das Tier, das dem Menschen am ähnlichsten ist