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 god like a soldier.
RUDYARD KIPLINGAll good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!
More Rudyard Kipling Quotes
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If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too;!
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The world is very lovely, and it’s very horrible–and it doesn’t care about your life or mine or anything else.
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I’ve just read that I am dead. Don’t forget to delete me from your list of subscribers.
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Cat said, ‘I am not a friend, and I am not a Servant. I am the Cat who walks by himself, and I wish to come into your Cave.’
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This is a brief life, but in its brevity it offers us some splendid moments, some meaningful adventures.
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War is an ill thing, as I surely know. But ‘twould be an ill world for weaponless dreamers if evil men were not now and then slain.
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The jungle speaks to me because I know how to listen.
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Humble because of knowledge; mighty by sacrifice.
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There is no sin so great as ignorance. Remember this.
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Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind.
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Not getting what you want either means you don’t want it enough, or you have been dealing too long with the price you have to pay.
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At two o’clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.
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I worked like a horse and I ate like a hog and I slept like a dead man.
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All good people agree, And all good people say, All nice people, like Us, are We And every one else is They: But if you cross over the sea, Instead of over the way, You may end by (think of it!) looking on We As only a sort of They!
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There’s no jealousy in the grave.
RUDYARD KIPLING