I'm an animal love, but I don't have the smarts to be a vet, or the heart to have been a vet cause I cry over any wounded animal.
If any player has a bad game its there in the back of your mind in the next game. Theres always a hangover. It is like a wounded animal in a way, as you want to get out there as quick as possible and rectify it.
But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. "Katniss, there is no District Twelve."
Man is an animal that makes bargains: no other animal does this - no dog exchanges bones with another.
"Katniss," Gale says softly. I recognize that voice. It's the same one he uses to approach wounded animals before he delivers a deathblow. I Instinctively raise my hand to block his words but he catches it and holds on tightly. "Don't," I whisper. But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. "Katniss, there is no District Twelve."
Except for its worst inner-city slums, America is not the primitive capitalist jungle of European imagination, where human beings slink away like wounded animals to die in bloodstained holes.
I am like a wounded animal in a remote isolated place - How wonderful! - How happy!
Only when Stephen Strange has his accident and everything that he's ever had in his life falls apart that he becomes pretty monstrous. It's the self-loathing rage of a wounded animal and he doesn't have a coping mechanism at all. It ties in with the discipline and the magic of this world.
What a strange thing it is to recognize a sound like the shriek of a wounded animal, when you've never heard the shriek of a wounded animal.
or simply:
