Rudyard Kipling - Biography - IMDb Rudyard Kipling Jump to: Overview (3) | Mini Bio (1) | Spouse (1) | Trivia (19) | Personal Quotes (11) Overview (3) Joseph Rudyard Kipling Mini Bio (1) Rudyard Kipling was born in Bombay, Maharashtra, India, the son of John Lockwood Kipling, a museum director and author and illustrator. This was at the height of the "British Raj", so he was brought up by Indian nurses ("ayahs"), who taught him something of the beliefs and tongues of India. He was sent "home" to England at the age of six to live with a foster mother, who treated him very cruelly. He then spent five formative years at a minor public school, the United Services College at Westward Ho! which inspired "Stalky & Co.". He returned to India as a journalist in 1882.

By 1890 he had published, in India, a major volume of verse, "Departmental Ditties", and over 70 Indian tales in English, including "Plain Tales from the Hills" and the six volumes of the "Indian Railway Library". When he arrived in London in October 1889, at the age of 23, he was already a literary celebrity. In 1892 he married Caroline Balestier, the daughter of an American lawyer, and set up house with her in Brattleboro, Vermont, where they lived for four years. While in Vermont he wrote the two "Jungle Books" and "Captains Courageous". In 1901 he wrote "Kim" and in 1902 "The Just So Stories" that explained things like "How the Camel Got Its Hump". From 1902 they made their home in Sussex, England. He subsequently published many collections of stories, including "A Diversity of Creatures", "Debits and Credits" (1926) and "Limits and Renewals" (1932).

These are now thought by many to contain some of his finest writing, although his introspection may well have been influenced by the death of their only son in the First World War. Although vilified by some as "the poet of British imperialism" in the past, nowadays he may be regarded as a great story-teller with an extraordinary gift for writing of peoples of many cultures and classes and backgrounds from the inside. - IMDb Mini Biography By: Steve Crook <steve@brainstorm.co.uk> Spouse (1) ( 18 January 1892 - 18 January 1936) (his death) (3 children) Trivia (19) After his son John was killed in battle during World War I, he worked for the War Graves Commission and created the inscription "A soldier of the Great War - Known Unto God" for the graves of soldiers who could not be identified. Born at 4:53pm-LMT In 1995 his poem "If ..". was voted England's favorite poem.

Notable poems include "If ...", "The White Man's Burden" and "Tommy Atkins" His widow left their house, "Batemans", in Burwash, Sussex as a gift to the nation. It is now open to the public. Awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1907. He was both the youngest (42) and the first English-speaking writer to win the prize. According to his widow, the name of the "Jungle Book" character 'Mowgli' is pronounced "MAU-glee", not "MOH-glee". Wrote two short stories, "With the Night Mail" and "As Easy As A.B.C.", which are considered two of the earliest works of contemporary science fiction. He declined the Poet Laureateship, the Order of Merit and a knighthood. Children: Josephine Kipling, born December 1892; Elsie Kipling, born 1896; and John Kipling, born 1897. He spoke Hindi as his first language, having been taught the tongue from the cradle by his Indian ayah.

Rector of St Andrews University, 1922-1925. Became friends with a French soldier whose life had been saved when a copy of "Kim" he was carrying stopped a bullet. Called his son John "Jack". He was originally a strong supporter of Britain's involvement in World War I, but his attitude changed completely after his son John, a soldier in the British army, was killed in the Battle of Loos. The youngest winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature at 42 years old. He was the first Briton to win the Pulitzer Prize for Literature. Was a huge fan of Mark Twain and went out of his way to meet him when in America. Used connections to get his son Jack a place in the army after he was rejected due to being severely short-sighted.

Personal Quotes (11) BBC News - Today - Kipling's Indian legacy Kipling's Indian legacy The Indian-born writer's reputation is being reassessed, both in the UK and India By Andrew Walker Today programme Plans for a museum in Rudyard Kipling's Mumbai home commemorating the writer have been shelved following concerns that a memorial to the renowned imperialist and chronicler of the British Raj would be politically unpalatable. But is it time for Indians to reappraise him? Nearly 75 years after his death, the poet and author Rudyard Kipling remains as celebrated and controversial as ever. The man who created the popular image - or myth - of the British Raj, has gone through somewhat of a renaissance in modern Britain. His poem If - for so long virtually ignored by poetry experts and anthologies alike - topped a BBC poll as the greatest poem of all in 1995. And in 2002, when his works came out of copyright, a flurry of cheap editions of Kipling's poetry and novels proved a popular attraction. But, for Indians, the man praised by George Orwell as "a good bad poet" remains a divisive figure.

And now, plans to turn the house in Mumbai where he was born in 1865 into a museum have been abandoned in the face of a huge political row. Kipling's birthplace is instead set to showcase paintings by local artists. Mukund Gorashkar, who is leading the renovation project for the JSW Foundation, says "if we tried to convert it into a Kipling museum simply because Kipling was born there, that would ruffle quite a few feathers. "In the political storm, you may find that the conservation effort would be set aside." Kipling's works were celebrated by the Royal Mail in 2002 Kipling was born in the Dean's bungalow which nestles in the grounds of the JJ School of Art, one of the many jewels of what was then Victorian Bombay. And his childhood experiences in the city inspired one of Kipling's best-known and loved characters, the boy spy Kim. Mr Gorashkar said that municipal government officials with whom he had spoken had strongly discouraged him from referring to the building as "Kipling's House", insisting that it should be called by its original name, "Dean's House".

Some of Kipling's work, including lines like "And a woman is only a woman; but a good cigar is a Smoke'', jar with critics today. But the debate surrounding their actual meaning remains active and vigorous. For instance, one of his most famous poems, which begins: "Take up the White Man's Burden/ Send forth the best ye breed" does not refer to British Imperialism at all but celebrates the US occupation of Cuba and the Philippines after the 1898 Spanish-American War. 'Wellspring' It may well be that, as the columnist Geoffrey Wheatcroft once put it: "to his detractors, Kipling's real sin isn't that he is politically incorrect so much as that he is so readable". Even so, it is hard to put any sort of revisionist spin on aphorisms like "a man should, whatever happens, keep to his own caste, race, and breed." Andrew Lycett, Kipling's biographer and whose latest work, Kipling Abroad, has just hit the bookshops, believes that India has a love-hate relationship with the writer. "It was the wellspring of his imagination.

But I can well understand why Indians look askance at him in this day and age. He was an imperialist. He was not a supporter of Indian nationalism. "On the other hand, he was the first great Indian writer in the English language. He was of English stock. "The British are still trying to make up their mind about Kipling." Aravind Adiga: 'Deep ambivalence to Kipling's work in India' The Indian-born novelist Aravind Adiga, whose debut work The White Tiger garnered a Man Booker prize, is a long-time Kipling devotee. Indeed, he researched him while studying at Oxford. He believes that "it's odd how little of his work is known in India. "There has been such an explosion of Indian writing in English that Kipling is not read very much any more," he says, adding that Indian readers today prefer writers like Jeffrey Archer. "People who study Indian literature at universities whether in India or abroad are very political," he added. "But the people who actually buy books and read them in India don't really care. "There has always been a deep ambivalence to Kipling because of his dislike of Indians who read and speak in English.

His deep antipathy towards people in Calcutta who are university-educated means that he's in trouble because it's those people who now read in English in India." But Mr Adiga said that Kipling had a "deep love" of India's forests and that his jungle tales presented a picture of "a part of India that is now quickly vanishing". As Orwell pointed out in an oft-quoted essay, Kipling was not just a writer but someone who added phrases to the English language. But could it be that, for the man who wrote "what do they know of England who only England know?"; "the female of the species is more deadly than the male" and "you'll be a man, my son", a more lasting theme may be "East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet"? Bookmark with: Women who will make you shiver! - India.com » Buzz Women who will make you shiver! "... the female of the species is more deadly than the male," said Rudyard Kipling and he might have meant writers excelling in frightening us with tales of supernatural horror and terror.

By Indo-Asian News Service | Updated: December 15, 2015 6:04 PM IST Comments “… the female of the species is more deadly than the male,” said Rudyard Kipling and he might have meant writers excelling in frightening us with tales of supernatural horror and terror. In fact, the horror genre was one where women authors held their own against their male counterparts and even outpaced them – especially in the Victorian era. But virtually all have been forgotten except by a few truly devoted aficionados and deserve to be brought back into the limelight. Rooted in folklore and religious tradition, and focussing on death, afterlife, evil and the demonic, horror fiction in English began with the Gothic (originally only a sub-genre of Gothic fiction with the name derived from the architectural style of buildings these stories are usually set in). The pioneer was Horace Walpole’s “The Castle of Otranto” (1764), the first modern novel to encompass supernatural elements, but it was Clara Reeve (1729-1807) who moved the genre forward.

In “The Old English Baron” (1777), she took Walpole’s plot only but balanced the fantastic elements with realism to make it more believable. Giving the genre respectability with her technique of “the explained supernatural” or a final rational explanation of seemingly supernatural events, was Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823), author of “The Mysteries of Udolpho” (1794) and “The Italian” (1796). Radcliffe, who influenced among others Sir Walter Scott, Edgar Allan Poe, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Daphne du Maurier – and Jane Austen (who parodied her in “Northanger Abbey”), also differentiated between literary terror and horror, or the dread before the actual experience and the revulsion afterward respectively – criticising the emphasis on the latter. Both Reeve and Radcliffe influenced Mary Shelley (1797-1851), who created one of the best-known supernatural characters – Frankenstein’s monster in the eponymous novel of 1818 though it is more science fiction than horror. But it was the Victorian era, spanning most of the 19th century that the genre caught popular interest.

The epoch saw unprecedented scientific advance but also keen interest in the supernatural and many authors – a large number of women among them – catered to it. The stories were slow and suspenseful, but guaranteed to send a chill down your spine. Known for her novels of society, Elizabeth Cleghorn Gaskell (1810-1865) occasionally penned the scary stuff, one of which was “The Ghost in the Garden Room” – an entry in Charles Dickens-helmed story “The Haunted House” featured in the 1859 Christmas issue of his weekly literary periodical “All the Year Round”. This also included “The Ghost in the Clock Room” by Hesba Stretton — pen-name of Sarah Smith (1832-1911) who otherwise wrote children’s books –, and “The Ghost in the Picture Room” by poet-philanthropist Adelaide Anne Procter (1825-1864), who was Queen Victoria’s favourite poet. More famous than Dickens in her time, Ellen Wood (1814-1887) also contributed to the genre with her most-known and often-anthologized “Reality or Delusion?” among others.

Margaret Wilson Oliphant (1828-1897) also had several works of supernatural fiction, including the long ghost story “A Beleaguered City” and other shorter tales, among her 120 books, while Countess Wilhelmina FitzClarence (1830-1906), who only took up writing when 60, produced “Ghostly Tales” (1896), largely forgotten now, but quite popular then. Journalist, traveller and Egyptologis Amelia Edwards (1831-1892) also found time to write mystery and horror fiction, with “The Phantom Coach” most known. Then there was Rhoda Broughton (1840-1920), niece of renowned author Sheridan Le Fanu and known as the “Queen of the Circulating Libraries” due to demand for her works – not limited to ghost stories. Equally prolific were Mary Elizabeth Braddon (1835-1915), also not limited to the supernatural, and Henrietta Dorothy “H.D” Everett (1851-1923).

“The Shadow on the Blind and Other Ghost Stories” was by Louisa Baldwin (1845-1925), mother of British Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin and aunt of Kipling, while Edith Nesbit (1858-1924), who authored over 60 children’s books including “The Phoenix and the Carpet” and “The Railway Children”, also wrote “Something Wrong” and “Grim Tales” (both 1893), and “Tales Told in Twilight” (1897). Charlotte Riddell (1832-1906), who wrote as J.H. Riddell, was one of the period’s most popular and influential writers including of horror, producing some most startling and original ghost stories, set in a range of sinister locales including hell! A unique contribution was the exploits of occult detective Flaxman Low – created by the mother-son combination of E.& H. Heron (Kate O’Brien Ryall Prichard and Major Hesketh Vernon Prichard – born in Jhansi in 1876).

Wordsworth Classics’ Tales of the Mystery and Supernatural series published most of these (though quite a few now seem out of print) but almost all are available online. If you decide to read one tonight – well, you might want to keep the light on till dawn! Published Date: April 19, 2015 9:51 AM IST | Updated Date: December 15, 2015 6:04 PM IST Rudyard Kipling - Wikiquote Rudyard Kipling Jump to: navigation , search Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind. Joseph Rudyard Kipling ( 30 December 1865 – 18 January 1936 ) was an English journalist , short-story writer, poet and novelist, born in India. In 1907, he was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature , making him the first English language writer to receive the prize, and he remains today its youngest-ever recipient. Contents I've just read that I'm dead. Don't forget to delete me from your list of subscribers. Letter to a magazine that had mistakenly published the announcement of his death. I have eaten your bread and salt.

I have drunk your water and wine. The deaths ye died I have watched beside And the lives ye led were mine. I have written the tale of our life For a sheltered people's mirth, In jesting guise—but ye are wise, And ye know what the jest is worth. Prelude Stanza 3. A fool there was and he made his prayer (Even as you and I!) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair We called her the woman who did not care), But the fool he called her his lady fair (Even as you and I!) Call a truce, then, to our labours let us feast with friends and neighbours, And be merry as the custom of our caste; For if “faint and forced the laughter,” and if sadness follow after, We are richer by one mocking Christmas past. The toad beneath the harrow knows Exactly where each tooth point goes; The butterfly upon the road Preaches contentment to that toad. God of our fathers, known of old, Lord of our far-flung battle line, Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine— Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget—lest we forget!

Stanza 1. The tumult and the shouting dies; The Captains and the Kings depart; Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart. Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget—lest we forget! Stanza 2. If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe, Such boastings as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law — Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget—lest we forget! Stanza 4. * For heathen heart that puts her trust in reeking tube and iron shard, all valiant dust that builds on dust and guarding calls not thee to guard for frantic boast and foolish word thy mercy on thy people lord! Stanza 5. On the Strength of a Likeness . He did his best to interest the girl in himself—that is to say, his work—and she, after the manner of women, did her best to appear interested in, what behind his back, she called "Mr. Wressley's Wajahs"; for she lisped very prettily.

She did not understand one little thing about them, but she acted as if she did. Men have married on that sort of error before now. She read a little of it. I give her review verbatim:—"Oh, your book? It's all about those how-wid Wajahs. I didn't understand it." Wressley of the Foreign Office. Life's Handicap (1891)[ edit ] East of Suez, some hold, the direct control of Providence ceases; Man being there handed over to the power of the Gods and Devils of Asia, and the Church of England Providence only exercising an occasional and modified supervision in the case of Englishmen. All gods have good points, just as have all priests. Personally, I attach much importance to Hanuman , and am kind to his people—the great gray apes of the hills. One never knows when one may want a friend. The Mark of the Beast. 'Take your friend away. He has done with Hanuman, but Hanuman has not done with him.' The Mark of the Beast.

And oft-times cometh our wise Lord God, master of every trade, And tells them tales of His daily toil, of Edens newly made; And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid. Dedication, Stanza 5. I've taken my fun where I've found it; I've rogued an' I've ranged in my time. An' I learned about women from 'er. The Ladies, ending line to Stanzas III, IV, and V. I've taken my fun where I've found it, An' now I must pay for my fun, For the more you 'ave known o' the others The less will you settle to one. The Ladies, Stanza VII. For the colonel's lady an' Judy O'Grady, Are sisters under their skins. The Ladies, Stanza VIII. “What are the bugles blowin' for?” said Files-on-Parade. “To turn you out, to turn you out”, the Colour-Sergeant said. They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. Danny Deever, Stanza 1.

But he couldn't lie if you paid him and he'd starve before he stole. The Mary Gloster. We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too, But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you; An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints, Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints. For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' “Chuck him out, the brute!” But it's “Saviour of 'is country” when the guns begin to shoot. Tommy, Stanza 5. So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Soudan; You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man. 'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive An' 'e's generally shammin' when 'e's dead. Fuzzy-Wuzzy. For you all love the screw-guns the screw-guns they all love you! So when we take tea with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do—hoo! hoo!

Jest send in your Chief an' surrender it's worse if you fights or you runs: You may hide in the caves, they'll be only your graves, but you can't get away from the guns! You may talk o' gin and beer When you're quartered safe out 'ere, An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Aldershot it; But when it comes to slaughter You will do your work on water, An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it. So I'll meet 'im later on At the place where 'e is gone— Where it's always double drill and no canteen. 'E'll be squattin' on the coals Givin' drink to poor damned souls, An' I'll get a swig in hell from Gunga Din! Yes, Din! Din! Din! Though I've belted you and flayed you, By the livin' Gawd that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din! Gunga Din, Stanza 5. 'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead?

She 'as ships on the foam—she 'as millions at 'ome, An' she pays us poor beggars in red. When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck, Don't look nor take 'eed at the man that is struck, Be thankful you're livin', and trust to your luck And march to your front like a soldier. Front, front, front like a soldier... If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white, Remember it's ruin to run from a fight: So take open order, lie down, and sit tight, And wait for supports like a soldier. Wait, wait, wait like a soldier... Young British Soldier, Stanza 12. 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 An' go to your Gawd like a soldier. Go, go, go like a soldier, Go, go, go like a soldier, Go, go, go like a soldier, So-oldier of the Queen! Young British Soldier, Stanza 13.

Oh the road to Mandalay Where the flyin'-fishes play An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay! By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' eastward to the sea, There's a Burma girl a-settin', and I know she thinks o' me; For the wind is in the palm-trees, and the temple-bells they say: “Come you back, you British soldier; come you back to Mandalay!” Mandalay, Stanza 1. Ship me somewheres east of Suez, where the best is like the worst, Where there aren't no Ten Commandments, an' a man can raise a thirst. Mandalay, Stanza 6. To the legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned, To my brethren in their sorrow overseas, Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed, And a trooper of the Empress, if you please. We're poor little lambs who've lost our way, Baa! Baa! Baa! We're little black sheep who've gone astray, Baa—aa—aa!

Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree, Damned from here to Eternity, God ha' mercy on such as we, Baa! Yah! Bah! We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth, We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung, And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth. God help us, for we knew the worst too young! Gentlemen-Rankers, Stanza 4. For to admire an' for to see, For to be'old this world so wide— It never done no good to me, But I can't drop it if I tried! The Second Jungle Book (1895)[ edit ] Now this is the Law of the Jungle—as old and as true as the sky; And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die. As the creeper that girdles the tree trunk, the Law runneth forward and back; For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack. The Law of the Jungle , Stanzas 1 and 2.

When Pack meets with Pack in the Jungle, and neither will go from the trail, Lie down till the leaders have spoken—it may be fair words shall prevail. The Law of the Jungle, Stanza 6. Now these are the Laws of the jungle, and many and mighty are they; But the head and the hoof of the Law and the haunch and the hump is—Obey! The Law of the Jungle, Stanza 19. 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; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise. Stanza 1. If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two imposters just the same Stanza 2.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss. Stanza 3. If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And—which is more—you'll be a Man, my son! Stanza 4. We have fed our sea for a thousand years And she calls us, still unfed... We have fed our sea for a thousand years And she calls us, still unfed, Though there's never a wave of all her waves But marks our English dead. The Song of the Dead , II, Stanza 1 (1896). They change their skies above them, But not their hearts that roam! The Native-Born , Stanza 2 (1895).

The Liner she's a lady, an' she never looks nor 'eeds— The Man-o'-War's 'er 'usband, an' 'e gives 'er all she needs; But, oh, the little cargo-boats, that sail the wet seas roun', They're just the same as you an' me a-plyin' up an' down! There's a Legion that never was 'listed, That carries no colours or crest, But, split in a thousand detachments, Is breaking the road for the rest. The Lost Legion , Stanza 1 (1895). There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, And every single one of them is right! But my Totem saw the shame; from his ridgepole shrine he came, And he told me in a vision of the night:— There are nine and sixty ways of constructing tribal lays, And every single one of them is right! For ‘im that doth not work must surely die; But that's no reason man should labour all ‘Is life on one same shift—life's none so long.

It's like a book, I think, this bloomin' world, Which you can read and care for just so long, But presently you feel that you will die Unless you get the page you're readin' done, An' turn another—likely not so good; But what you're after is to turn 'em all. Sestina of the Tramp-Royal, Stanza 6. Back to the Army again, sergeant, Back to the Army again: Out o' the cold an' the rain, sergeant, Out o' the cold an' the rain. When the cabin port-holes are dark and green Because of the seas outside; When the ship goes wop (with a wiggle between) And the steward falls into the soup-tureen, And the trunks begin to slide; When Nursey lies on the floor in a heap, And Mummy tells you to let her sleep, And you aren't waked or washed or dressed, Why, then you will know (if you haven't guessed) You're ‘Fifty North and Forty West!' I keep six honest serving-men: (They taught me all I knew) Their names are What and Where and When And How and Why and Who.

If any question why we died, Tell them, because our fathers lied. Common Form Body and spirit I surrendered whole To harsh instructors—and received a soul... If mortal man could change me through and through From all I was—What may the God not do? The Wonder This man in his own country prayed we know not to what powers. We pray them to reward him for his bravery in ours. Hindu Sepoy in France From little towns in a far land we came, To save our honour and a world aflame. By little towns in a far land we sleep, And trust the world we won for you to keep. Canadian Memorial (2). I could not dig: I dared not rob: Therefore I lied to please the mob. Now all my lies are proved untrue And I must face the men I slew. What tale shall serve me here among Mine angry and defrauded young? A Dead Statesman But that's another story. Soldiers Three, The Story of the Gadsbys, In Black and White (1888). Being kissed by a man who didn't wax his moustache was like eating an egg without salt. The Story of the Gadsbys (1888), "Poor Dear Mamma".

In the flush of the hot June prime, O'ersleek flood-tides afire, I hear him hurry the chime To the bidding of checked Desire; Till the sweated ringers tire And the wild bob-majors die. Could I wait for my turn in the godly choir? (Shoal! 'Ware shoal!) Not I! Men and women may sometimes, after great effort, achieve a creditable lie; but the house, which is their temple, cannot say anything save the truth of those who have lived in it. "They," published in Traffics and Discoveries (1904) Enough work to do, and strength enough to do the work. A Doctor's Work, an address at Middlesex Hospital (October 1908). Brothers and Sisters, I bid you beware Of giving your heart to a dog to tear. For undemocratic reasons and for motives not of State, They arrive at their conclusions—largely inarticulate. Being void of self-expression they confide their views to none: But sometimes in a smoking-room, one learns why things were done. The Puzzler , Stanza 3 (1909).

For the female of the species is more deadly than the male. For all we have and are, For all our children's fate, Stand up and take the war. The Hun is at the gate! Of body, will, and soul. No easy hope or lies Shall bring us to our goal, But iron sacrifice Of body, will, and soul. There is but one task for all— One life for each to give. What stands if Freedom fall? Who dies if England live? For All We Have and Are, Stanza 4. As I pass through my incarnations in every age and race, I make my proper prostrations to the Gods of the Market-Place. Peering through reverent fingers I watch them flourish and fall, And the Gods of the Copybook Headings, I notice, outlast them all. Words are, of course, the most powerful drug used by mankind. Speech, quoted in The Times (February 15, 1923). Never again will I spend another winter in this accursed Bucket shop|bucketshop of a refrigerator called England. Letter to Sidney Colvin (1928). A people always ends by resembling its shadow.

Said to author and critic André Maurois c. 1930, on the subject of the transformation of Germany. Quoted in Maurois, The Art of Writing, “The Writer's Craft,” sct. 2 (1960). When your Daemon is in charge, do not try to think consciously. Drift, wait, and obey. Something of Myself for My Friends Known and Unknown, ch. 8 (1937). Four things greater than all things are,— Women and Horses and Power and War. Two things greater than all things are, The first is Love, and the second War. There be triple ways to take, of the eagle or the snake, Or the way of a man with a maid; But the fairest way to me is a ship's upon the sea In the heel of the North-East Trade. Oh, Adam was a gardener, and God who made him sees That half a proper gardener's work is done upon his knees, So when your work is finished, you can wash your hands and pray For the Glory of the Garden that it may not pass away! All the people like us are We, And every one else is They.

Now I possess and am possessed of the land where I would be, And the curve of half Earth's generous breast shall soothe and ravish me! Be humble, as you crawl beneath our rods!— Our touch can alter all created things, We are everything on earth—except The Gods! But remember, please, the Law by which we live, We are not built to comprehend a lie, We can neither love nor pity nor forgive, If you make a slip in handling us you die! We are greater than the Peoples or the Kings— Be humble, as you crawl beneath our rods!— Our touch can alter all created things, We are everything on earth—except The Gods! Though our smoke may hide the Heavens from your eyes, It will vanish and the stars will shine again, Because, for all our power and weight and size, We are nothing more than children of your brain! The Secret of the Machines, Stanza 8. There rise her timeless capitals of Empires daily born, Whose plinths are laid at midnight, and whose streets are packed at morn; And here come hired youths and maids that feign to love or sin In tones like rusty razor-blades to tunes like smitten tin.

Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne, He travels the fastest who travels alone. When the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould; And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves, “It's pretty, but is it Art?” We know that the tail must wag the dog, for the horse is drawn by the cart; But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old: “It's clever, but is it Art?” The Conundrum of the Workshops, Stanza 6. Bite on the bullet, old man, and don't let them think you're afraid. American Notes— At the Golden Gate (1891). Asia is not going to be civilised after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old. Asia is not going to be civilised after the methods of the West. There is too much Asia and she is too old. Winds of the World, give answer! They are whimpering to and fro— And what should they know of England who only England know?

The English Flag , Stanza 1 (1891). “Stand up, stand up now, Tomlinson, and answer loud and high “The good that ye did for the sake of men or ever ye came to die— “The good that ye did for the sake of men in little earth so lone!” And the naked soul of Tomlinson grew white as a rain-washed bone. Tomlinson , l. 7-10 (1891). “Go back to Earth with a lip unsealed—go back with an open eye, “And carry my word to the Sons of Men or ever ye come to die: “That the sin they do by two and two they must pay for one by one— “And the God that you took from a printed book be with you, Tomlinson!” Tomlinson, l. 58-61. If I were damned of body and soul, I know whose prayers would make me whole, Mother o' mine, O mother o' mine. When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried...

And the end of the fight is a tombstone white, with the name of the late deceased, And the epitaph drear: "A fool lies here who tried to hustle the East." The Naulahka , ch. 5 (1892). When Earth's last picture is painted and the tubes are twisted and dried, When the oldest colours have faded, and the youngest critic has died, We shall rest, and, faith, we shall need it—lie down for an aeon or two, Till the Master of All Good Workmen shall put us to work anew! Each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star, Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are! And only the Master shall praise us, and only the Master shall blame; And no one shall work for money, and no one shall work for fame, But each for the joy of the working, and each, in his separate star, Shall draw the Thing as he sees It for the God of Things as They Are! When Earth's Last Picture Is Painted, Stanza 3.

Ever the wide world over, lass, Ever the trail held true, Over the world and under the world, And back at the last to you. The Gypsy Trail , Stanza 2 (1892). When next he came to me he was drunk—royally drunk on many poets for the first time revealed to him. His pupils were dilated, his words tumbled over each other, and he wrapped himself in quotations—as a beggar would enfold himself in the purple of emperors. We pulled for you when the wind was against us and the sails were low. Will you never let us go? When 'Omer smote 'is bloomin' lyre, He'd 'eard men sing by land an' sea; An' what he thought 'e might require, 'E went an' took—the same as me! A Nation spoke to a Nation, A Queen sent word to a Throne: ‘Daughter am I in my mother's house, But mistress in my own. The gates are mine to open, As the gates are mine to close, And I set my house in order,' Said our Lady of the Snows.

Take up the White Man's burden— Send forth the best ye breed— Go bind your sons to exile To serve your captives' need. It was our fault, and our very great fault—and now we must turn it to use. We have forty million reasons for failure, but not a single excuse. The Lesson , Stanza 8 (1899-1902). “True. True talk,” said Kim solemnly. “Fools speak of a cat when a woman is brought to bed, for instance. I have heard them.” Kim , Chapter 8 (1901). And what did ye look they should compass? Warcraft learned in a breath, Knowledge unto occasion at the first far view of Death? So? And ye train your horses and the dogs ye feed and prize? How are the beasts more worthy than the souls, your sacrifice? But ye said, “Their valour shall show them”; but ye said, “The end is close.” And ye sent them comfits and pictures to help them harry your foes: And ye vaunted your fathomless power, and ye flaunted your iron pride, Ere—ye fawned on the Younger Nations for the men who could shoot and ride!

Then ye returned to your trinkets; then ye contented your souls With the flannelled fools at the wicket or the muddied oafs at the goals. Men, not children or servants, tempered and taught to the end; Cleansed of servile panic, slow to dread or despise, Humble because of knowledge, mighty by sacrifice. The Islanders, l. 55-57. God gave all men all earth to love, But since our hearts are small, Ordained for each one spot should prove Belovèd over all. Who hath desired the Sea?—the sight of salt water unbounded— The heave and the halt and the hurl and the crash of the comber wind-hounded? Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges— Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go! The Explorer , Stanza 2 (1903). Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up and down again! There's no discharge in the war! Boots , Stanza 1 (1903). That's the secret. 'Tisn't beauty, so to speak, nor good talk necessarily.

It's just It. Some women'll stay in a man's memory if they once walk down a street.

Question: Which famous poet and author, born in India in 1865, wrote the poem 'The Female of the Species is More Deadly than the Male'?
Answer: Rudyard Kipling