No one accuses the Gunner of maudlin affection for anything except his beasts and his weapons. He hasn't the time. He serves at least three jealous godsโhis horse and all its saddlery and harness; his gun, whose least detail of efficiency is more important than men's lives; and, when these have been attended to, the never-ending mystery of his art commands him.
Rudyard KiplingAnd when your back stops aching and your hands begin to harden, You will find yourself a partner in the Glory of the Garden.
Rudyard KiplingOf course the Man was wild too. He was dreadfully wild. He didn't even begin to be tame till he met the Woman, and she told him that she did not like living in his wild ways. She picked out a nice dry Cave, instead of a heap of wet leaves, to lie down in; and she strewed clean sand on the floor; and she lit a nice fire of wood at the back of the Cave; and she hung a dried wild-horse skin, tail down, across the opening of the Cave; and she said, 'Wipe your feet, dear, when you come in, and now we'll keep house.
Rudyard KiplingI've just read that I am dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers.
Rudyard KiplingBut till we are built like angels, with hammer and chisel and pen, we will work for ourself and a woman, forever and ever, Amen.
Rudyard Kipling