Ye may kill for yourselves, and your mates, and your cubs as they need, and ye can;
But kill not for pleasure of killing, and seven times never kill Man!

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: man blood-and-chocolate rudyard-kipling



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All the people like us are we, and everyone else is they.

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: satirical ridiculous



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Also, we will make promise. So long as The Blood endures,
I shall know that your good is mine: ye shall feel that my strength is yours:
In the day of Armageddon, at the last great fight of all,
That Our House stand together and the pillars do not fall.

Rudyard Kipling


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There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and woman to fill our day;
But when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: death sorrow dog



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Across a world where all men grieve
And grieving strive the more,
The great days range like tides and leave
Our dead on every shore.

Rudyard Kipling


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Of all the liars in the world, sometimes the worst are our own fears.

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: fear self-deception liars



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...I saw the infernal Thing blocking my path in the twilight. The dead travel fast, and by short cuts unknown to ordinary coolies. I laughed aloud a second time, and checked my laughter suddenly, for I was afraid I was going mad.

Rudyard Kipling


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There are few things sweeter in this world than the guileless, hotheaded,
intemperate, open admiration of a junior. Even a woman in
her blindest devotion does not fall into the gait of the man she
adores, tilt her bonnet to the angle at which he wears his hat, or
interlard her speech with his pet oaths.

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: admiration



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At two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen,
You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun.
And the trees in the Shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten,
And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done.

Rudyard Kipling

Stichwörter: poetry



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The tumalt and shouting dies,
The captains and the kings depart.
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heat.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget, lest we forget.

Rudyard Kipling


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