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It thrilled through him when he first felt the keel answer to his hand on the spokes and slide over the long hollows as the foresail scythed back and forth against the blue sky.
Rudyard Kipling
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Rudyard Kipling
Age: 70 †
Born: 1865
Born: December 30
Died: 1936
Died: January 18
Author
Autobiographer
Journalist
Novelist
Poet
Science Fiction Writer
Screenwriter
War Correspondent
Writer
Bombay
Joseph Rudyard Kipling
R. Kipling
Kipling
First
Blue
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Sailor
Hand
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Spokes
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Keel
More quotes by Rudyard Kipling
I have no gift of words, but I speak the truth.
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Funny how the new things are the old things.
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Delight in the little things.
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I always prefer to believe the best of everybody, it saves so much trouble.
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One learns more from a good scholar in a rage than from a score of lucid and laborious drudges.
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If the aunt of the vicar has never touched liquor, watch out when she finds the Champagne.
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Both triumph and disaster are impostors.
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A brave heart and a courteous tongue. They shall carry thee far through the jungle, Manling.
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The American has no language, he has a dialect, slang, provincialism, accent and so forth
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Heaven grant us patience with a man in love.
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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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If you can think–and not make thoughts your aim.
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I have my own matches and sulphur, and I'll make my own hell.
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Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made By singing 'Oh how wonderful' and sitting in the shade, While better men than we go out, and start their working lives By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives.
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And the end of the fight is tombstone white with the name of the late deceased, and the epitaph drear, A Fool lies here who tried to hustle the East.
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A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.
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Gentleman-rankers out on the spree, damned from here to Eternity.
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Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget--lest we forget!
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But till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and pen, we will work for ourself and a woman, forever and ever, Amen.
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Good Lord! who can account for the fathomless folly of the public?
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