"he became an adept at fighting. he economised. he never wasted his strength, never tussled. he was in too quickly for that, and, if he missed, was out again too quickly. the dislike of the wolf for close quarters was his to an unusual degree. he could not endure a prolonged contact with another body. it smacked of danger. it made him frantic. he must be away, free, on his own legs, touching no living thing. it was the wild, still clinging to him, asserting itself through him. this feeling had been accentuated by the Ishmaelite life he had led from his puppyhood. danger lurked in contacts. it was the trap, ever the trap, the fear of it lurking deep in the life of him, woven into the fibre of him."
"but the god talked on softly, and ever the hand rose and fell with non−hostile pats. white fang experienced dual feelings. it was distasteful to his instinct. it restrained him, opposed the will of him toward personal liberty. and yet it was not physically painful. on the contrary, it was even pleasant, in a physical way."
".. creatures of the wild who had never yielded allegiance to man. they were the lawful prey of any dog. it was only the tame that the gods protected, and between the tame deadly strife was not permitted. the gods held the power of life and death over their subjects, and the gods were jealous of their power."