Alexander Knox

Alexander Knox (16 January 1907 – 25 April 1995) was a Canadian actor and writer.

Quotes

  • There was no shame, but only graciousness, sun-soaked air, and, at the last, a peace such as the moss knows in the deepening corridors of trees.
    • Bride of Quietness (1933), ch. 4
  • The high Arctic had more snow that year than anyone remembered.
    • Ch. 1: Departure
  • He whispered steadily along in this pearly place, but though his steps were steady, a tension had seized him. It was a quivering, high-note vibration rather than a trembling. His flesh did not shake: inside his tightened skin he hummed, making no sound — a silent scream.
    • Ch. 1: Departure
  • Like a revelation it came to him that it was far, far better to be an Eskimo; that these people didn't know their arse from a hole in the ground, that they had no business here, that his people had lived here and thrived for thousands of years and that they were the People. They were the People and all these were strangers with the habits of children, and they sulked like children because that's what they were. Old Ways were best!
    • Ch. 1: Departure
  • How many would die this winter? There'd be a few more babies, but far more piles of stones. The Old Ways were a trap.
    The ceremonies and the rituals were pegs where living hangs suspended. Mad.
    Learn ancient, beautiful skills with spear and kayak in order to conquer impossible country, then struggle back to impossible country so you could use the skills you'd learned? Mad.
    Learn the skills to prove you're a man, and then to prove you're a man run, run, run to where you have to use the skills! Mad. ...
    To prove yourself a man. To whom? The million dead worked out these skills so they wouldn't die, but they did die, and the hissing of the Northern Lights was wry, accepting laughter. The million dead wouldn't be so foolish a second time.
    • Ch. 20: The Bear
Published in the US as Totem Dream (1973)
  • First there was nothing, then the nothing became blue. This was sky and it was one blue. Then it became a mixture of pale blue and dark blue and the dark blue was heavier and came together, and it found it was water. Then the mud in the water came together, and it found it was an island. The waves in the water shaped the island like the back of a turtle and made it smooth. So it was learned that smooth things could be made of mud so why not make them? So, out of the mud of the island two people were made, smooth and good to look at. They were Wendet, people of the island. Everyone knows these people were made but who made them? No one knows. It was too long ago. Not even the spirit of the oldest tree, or a mountain, or the moon could tell you because even those old spirits are too young to have been there.
    • Ch. 2: The Beginning
  • Four beautiful maids
    Were all in love with me.
    They said that I could have but one
    So I went off to sea.
    • Ch. 3: A Mark in the Sand
  • Everything about the girl was like a round of yeasty dough. It cried out to be smoothed or pressed or moulded or lifted or patted or stroked or gathered up or folded.
    • Ch. 3: A Mark in the Sand
  • The tomahawk flickered after her like a stick-thin dwarf doing cartwheels in the air and the stone head made a cracking sound as it struck. She fell instantly, and curiously slowly. Her heavy body made no sound. Her skull was shattered and the haft of the tomahawk stood out like the handle of a spoon from a boiled egg.
    • Ch. 9: One Dream
  • Surgery is speed and decision. A good surgeon saves his trembling till after he's killed the patient when it can do him no harm.
    • Ch. 1: The Accident
  • Infection...is like the wind, it bloweth where it listeth.
    • Ch. 9: Attempt