And some can pot begonias and some can bud a rose, And some are hardly fit to trust with anything that grows.

We are the opening verse of the opening page of the chapter of endless possibilities.

Youth had been a habit of hers for so long that she could not part with it.

The Guns, Thank God, The Guns.

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 gods—his 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.

More men are killed by overwork than the importance of the world justifies.

I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera - the Panther - and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away; and because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan.