One man alone is prey to the wolf.
Hunger leads the wolf to the village.
Outside a sheep, inside a wolf.
The wolf dies where the pack is.
Once a wolf, always a wolf.
The horror was this: the others.
Conchar is an ancient Gaelic term for those who admire the king of all hunters: the wolf. To some, the wolf is a magnificent beast, the pinnacle of predatory evolution. To others, the wolf is a thing of nightmare.
Was he hitting some type of werewolf midlife crisis? First, he'd left Wolf Town, and now he was envisioning a mate. What next? Bird watching? Board games? Retirement homes?
The shepherd drives the wolf from the sheep's for which the sheep thanks the shepherd as his liberator, while the wolf denounces him for the same act as the destroyer of liberty. Plainly, the sheep and the wolf are not agreed upon a definition of lib...
Where the cattle are, there the wolf shall die.
The sheep has no choice when in the jaws of the wolf.
No sheep runs into the mouth of a sleeping wolf.
Make yourself a sheep and the wolf is ready.
Out of love for the ox, the wolf licks the yoke.
The wolf loses his teeth, but not his inclinations.
In the end, it is our defiance that redeems us. If wolves had a religion – if there was a religion of the wolf – that it is what it would tell us.
Oh, but you must travel through those woods again and again... said a shadow at the window... and you must be lucky to avoid the wolf every time... But the wolf... the wolf only needs enough luck to find you once.
Know a man by his metaphors.
Firekeeper still could not understand the human penchant for eating in company. Even less so, she could not understand the human desire to combine business and meals. True, a wolf pack shared a kill, but not from any great desire to do so—rather be...
What the wolf does pleases his mate.
It's a foolish sheep that makes the wolf its confessor.
