Quotes from Rudyard Kipling

Heatherlegh is the dearest doctor that ever was, and his invariable prescription to all his patients is, lie low, go slow, and keep cool.

when he is far away, and we and our children must run when the grass is set alight. Indeed, we are very grateful to Shere Khan! Shall I tell him of your gratitude? said Tabaqui. Out! snapped Father Wolf. Out and hunt with thy master. Thou hast done harm enough for one night. I go, said Tabaqui quietly. Ye can hear Shere Khan below in the thickets. I might have saved myself the message. Father Wolf listened, and below in the valley that ran down to a little

They are very many, evil, dirty, shameless, and they desire, if they have any fixed desire, to be noticed by the Jungle People.

If you cross examine a child of seven or eight on his day's doings (specially when he wants to go to sleep), he will contradict himself very satisfactorily. If each contradiction be set down as a lie and retailed at breakfast, life is not easy. I have known a certain amount of bullying, but this was calculated torture - religious as well as scientific.

What am I? Mussalman, Hindu, Jain, or Buddhist? That is a hard nut.' 'Thou art beyond question an unbeliever, and therefore thou wilt be damned. So says my Law—or I think it does. But thou art also my Little Friend of all the World, and I love thee. So says my heart.

Do not weep; for, look you, all Desire is Illusion and a new binding upon the. wheel.

He is a man—a man—a man!" snarled the Pack; and most of the wolves began to gather round Shere Khan, whose tail was beginning to switch.

her big gray nose dropped across her four tumbling, squealing cubs, and the moon shone into the mouth of the cave where they all lived. "Augrh!" said Father Wolf, "it is time to hunt again"; and he was going to spring downhill when a little shadow with a bushy tail crossed the threshold and whined: "Good luck go with you, O Chief of the Wolves; and good luck and strong white teeth go with noble children, that they may never forget the hungry in this world.

Man goes to Man! Cry the challenge through the Jungle! He that was our Brother goes away. Hear, now, and judge, O ye People of the Jungle,— Answer, who shall turn him—who shall stay?   Man goes to Man! He is weeping in the Jungle: He that was our Brother sorrows sore! Man goes to Man! (Oh, we loved him in the Jungle!) To the Man-Trail where we may not follow more.

If there be good in that I wrought Thy Hand compelled it, Master, Thine – Where I have failed to meet Thy Thought I know, through Thee, the blame was mine.... The depth and dream of my desire, The bitter paths wherein I stray – Thou knowest who hast made the Fire, Thou knowest who hast made the Clay.

He had forgotten the egg. It still lay on the veranda, and Nagaina came nearer and nearer to it, till at last, while Rikki-tikki was drawing breath, she caught it in her mouth, turned to the veranda steps, and flew like an arrow down the path, with Rikki-tikki behind her. When the cobra runs for her life, she goes like a whip-lash flicked across a horse's neck.

At the hole where he went in Red-Eye called to Wrinkle-Skin. Hear what little Red-Eye saith: "Nag, come up and dance with death!

THIS IS THE STORY of the great war that Rikki-tikki-tavi fought single-handed, through the bathrooms of the big bungalow in Segowlee cantonment. Darzee, the Tailorbird, helped him, and Chuchundra, the musk-rat, who never comes out into the middle of the floor, but always creeps round by the wall, gave him advice, but Rikki-tikki did the real fighting.

Let them fall, Mowgli. They are only tears.

Then he jumped. The head was lying a little clear of the water jar, under the curve of it; and, as his teeth met, Rikki braced his back against the bulge of the red earthenware to hold down the head.

As he held he closed his jaws tighter and tighter, for he made sure he would be banged to death, and, for the honor of his family, he preferred to be found with his teeth locked.

The big man had been wakened by the noise, and had fired both barrels of a shotgun into Nag just behind the hood.

Darzee was a feather-brained little fellow who could never hold more than one idea at a time in his head.

The Coppersmith is a bird who makes a noise exactly like the beating of a little hammer on a copper pot; and the reason he is always making it is because he is the town crier to every Indian garden, and tells all the news to everybody who cares to listen.

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same

Badly-treated children have a clear notion of what they are likely to get if they betray the secrets of a prison-house before they are clear of it.

Singer and tailor am I– Doubled the joys that I know– Proud of my lilt to the sky, Proud of the house that I sew– Over and under, so weave I my music–so weave I the house that I sew.

That was our first step toward better acquaintance. He would call on me sometimes in the evenings instead of running about London with his fellow-clerks; and before long, speaking of himself as a

O it's Tommy this, an'Tommy that, an' Tommy, go away: But it's Thank you, Mister Adkins, when the band begins to play...