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Rudyard Kipling

  • English writer
  • Born December 30, 1865
  • Died January 18, 1936

Joseph Rudyard Kipling ( RUD-yərd; 30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936) was an English journalist, short-story writer, poet, and novelist. He was born in India, which inspired much of his work. Kipling's works of fiction include The Jungle Book (1894), Kim (1901), and many short stories, including "The Man Who Would Be King" (1888). His poems include "Mandalay" (1890), "Gunga Din" (1890), "The Gods of the Copybook Headings" (1919), "The White Man's Burden" (1899), and "If—" (1910). He is seen as an innovator in the art of the short story.


For the female of the species is more deadly than the male.




A woman's guess is much more accurate than a man's certainty.

A woman's guess is much more accurate than a man's certainty.




All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They.

All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They.




For the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one.




God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers.




If you can keep your wits about you while all others are losing theirs, and blaming you. The world will be yours and everything in it, what's more, you'll be a man, my son.




Down to Gehenna, or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone.




The silliest woman can manage a clever man; but it needs a very clever woman to manage a fool.




Asia is not going to be civilized after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old.




The first condition of understanding a foreign country is to smell it.




I always prefer to believe the best of everybody, it saves so much trouble.




A man's mind is wont to tell him more than seven watchmen sitting in a tower.




If I were hanged on the highest hill, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine! I know whose love would follow me still Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine!




I have struck a city - a real city - and they call it Chicago... I urgently desire never to see it again. It is inhabited by savages.




If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone, and so hold on when there is nothing in you except the will which says to them: 'Hold on!'




Heaven grant us patience with a man in love.




Borrow trouble for yourself, if that's your nature, but don't lend it to your neighbours.




It's clever, but is it Art?




Never look backwards or you'll fall down the stairs.




Fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds worth of distance run.




San Francisco is a mad city - inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people whose women are of a remarkable beauty.




We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse.




A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.




Everyone is more or less mad on one point.




And that is called paying the Dane-geld; but we've proved it again and again, that if once you have paid him the Dane-geld you never get rid of the Dane.




Small miseries, like small debts, hit us in so many places, and meet us at so many turns and corners, that what they want in weight, they make up in number, and render it less hazardous to stand the fire of one cannon ball, than a volley composed of such a shower of bullets.




An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy.

An ounce of mother is worth a pound of clergy.




If I were dammed of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, mother o' mine o mother o' mine.




Gardens are not made by singing 'Oh, how beautiful,' and sitting in the shade.




Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.




He travels the fastest who travels alone.




If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten.




A people always ends by resembling its shadow.




And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, till the Devil whispered behind the leaves 'It's pretty, but is it Art?'




He wrapped himself in quotations - as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of Emperors.




When you're wounded and left on Afghanistan's plains, and the women come out to cut up what remains, jest roll to your rifle and blow out your brains and go to your gawd like a soldier.



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