Lions Hunt Alone Quotes

All species capable of grasping this fact manage better in the struggle for existence than those which rely upon their own strength alone: the wolf, which hunts in a pack, has a greater chance of survival than the lion, which hunts alone.

Lion Is fearless. Lion is not a survivor But a warrior. Lion Hunt Alone, Not in group. Lion Don't eat leftover, but hunt big. A Lion does not turn around when a small dog Barks. Lion Is the king of the jungle

One pioneer remembered seeing “an open bleak prairie, the cold wind howling overhead…a new-made grave, a woman and three children sitting near by, a girl of 14 summers walking round and round in a circle, wringing her hands and calling upon her dead parent.” Janette Riker was only a young girl when she headed for Oregon with her father and two brothers in 1849. Late in September they camped in a valley in Montana, and the men went out to hunt. They never returned. While she waited, Janette built a small shelter, moved the wagon stove in with all the provisions and blankets, and hunkered down. She killed the fattest ox from her family’s herd, salted down the meat, and lived alone through the winter, amid howling wolves and mountain lions. She was discovered in April by Indians who were so impressed by her story that they took her to a fort in Washington. She never found out what happened to her family.

People and animals come together in herd-communities with their own kind exclusively to a single end. Each individual strives to preserve their own genes but achieving that alone can become extremely difficult or even impossible. It is easier to find a partner for the realisation of the basic instinct as a member of a herd and so ultimately, the prime principle in play is still the Law of Gene Preservation. It is easier to defend oneself from a more powerful enemy as a member of a herd. A pack of hyenas, for example, can face down a powerful predator like a lion, whereas an individual hyena would have no chance. In a herd it is easier to hunt and gather large sources of food, which it would be impossible for a lone animal to find. This is the case for lions, wolves and all other herd predators, including mankind. The unification of human beings into ever larger communities, beginning with tribes and clans in prehistoric times, then nations and states in the Middle Ages, continues today in the process called world globalisation. The reason for globalisation is the same as it was a thousand years ago. It provides the best conditions for preserving one’s own gene.

Please,” she whispered, barely daring to hope. “Does that mean you’ll let me go? Will…will you take me back to Tranq Prime? Will you—” A grinding, shrieking noise, like metal being ripped apart, cut through her words. Xairn gave her a humorless smile. “I would, but it appears I won’t have to. Your warrior has arrived. Though the gods alone know how he found you.” The shrieking noise ended with a resounding clang—the sound of metal bouncing off metal. And then… “Sophia!” The deep, furious roar sounded like something that might come from a male lion on the African veldt. It was Sylvan’s voice—she was sure of that—but so thick with fury it was barely recognizable. Xairn

Oh creator of all things, help me. For this day I go out into the world naked and alone, and without your hand to guide me I will wander far from the path which leads to success and happiness. I ask not for gold or garments or even opportunities equal to my ability; instead, guide me so that I may acquire ability equal to my opportunities. You have taught the lion and the eagle how to hunt and prosper with teeth and claw. Teach me how to hunt with words and prosper with love so that I may be a lion among men and an eagle in the market place. Help me to remain humble through obstacles and failures; yet hide not from mine eyes the prize that will come with victory. Assign me tasks to which others have failed; yet guide me to pluck the seeds of success from their failures. Confront me with fears that will temper my spirit; yet endow me with courage to laugh at my misgivings. Spare me sufficient days to reach my goals; yet help me to live this day as though it be my last. Guide me in my words that they may bear fruit; yet silence me from gossip that none be maligned. Discipline me in the habit of trying and trying again; yet show me the way to make use of the law of averages. Favor me with alertness to recognize opportunity; yet endow me with patience which will concentrate my strength. Bathe me in good habits that the bad ones may drown; yet grant me compassion for weaknesses in others. Suffer me to know that all things shall pass; yet help me to count my blessings of today. Expose me to hate so it not be a stranger; yet fill my cup with love to turn strangers into friends. But all these things be only if thy will. I am a small and a lonely grape clutching the vine yet thou hast made me different from all others. Verily, there must be a special place for me. Guide me. Help me. Show me the way. Let me become all you planned for me when my seed was planted and selected by you to sprout in the vineyard of the world. Help this humble salesman. Guide me, God.

One of the defining elements of the human animal is its capacity for abstract visualization. Other creatures are better than us at smelling, biting, hunting, running. We alone can create whole universes in our heads based on nothing more than thought. This is the basis of language, math, science, everything that defines human civilization. It is something monkeys and dolphins will never have. When evolutionary theorists seek to explain how this capacity for abstract thought arose, the story often goes like this Our ancestors, beset by all sorts of deadly horrors in the African savannah, needed some way to anticipate risks before the moment those risks jumped out of the bushes, red in tooth and claw. So began the slow process by which the neural networks in our head, under pressure from the ruthless mechanism of natural selection, created the means to model risk before the risk manifested itself. What would happen if I went to forage for berries in that field and a lion appeared? Would I be able to make it to the protection of that outcropping? How many berries would I be able to get? How hungry am I? Is it worth the risk? Out of these habits of mind grew the whole mental apparatus by which we play out life scenarios as a game within our mind, before putting life and limb on the line in a true sense. The relationship between board games and real life is in some ways close.

My lord?’ Guilliman did not look up. ‘Three dead,’ he said softly. ‘Lorgar’s boasts were true. Three.’ ‘My lord.’ Guilliman shook his head, eyes still on the display. ‘The stories they bring to me, Euten. That Horus, or any of them, should turn against us, against me, against my father… I cannot begin to process it. My only consolation… My only consolation at all, as I have learned through our bitter fight with Lorgar, is that something has overtaken them, contaminated them. The warp is in their brains. It hardly excuses their actions, but it explains them. They are run mad and are no longer of themselves.’ He looked at the elderly chamberlain. She was upright and slender, supported by her tall staff. Her short hair was as glacial as her gown. ‘It is a hard thing to accept, my lord,’ she said. ‘I thought it would be the hardest,’ Guilliman agreed. ‘But what are brothers turned traitor compared to the death of three loyal sons? The survivors cannot refute it. Ferrus is dead. Corax, Vulkan, loyal all, and dead. Then, from the mouths of others, this news from Prospero. Magnus defying our father so much that they set the damned Wolves upon him? And now we hear from the Phall System, confirmation that Perturabo has indeed betrayed us…’ He rose to his feet. ‘What else? What else, I wonder? Is Terra already burning? Is my father already dead? If half of my brothers have turned to follow Horus’s treachery, then who remains? Three of those who might be counted loyal are already dead. Who else? Where is the Khan? Does Dorn burn along with Terra? Sanguinius and his Legion are said to be lost. The Lion has gone into the dark. Have the traitors hunted down the Wolf King and torn him to shreds? Am I alone now?’ ‘My lord, you–’ Guilliman held up his hand. ‘I am just thinking out loud, mam. I will be composed by the time I reach the hall. You know I will.’ She nodded. ‘All I can count upon is what I know as solid fact,’ said Guilliman. ‘Macragge still stands. My Legion still stands. While those two facts remain, there remains an Imperium.