There was an old man of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When asked, – Rudyard Kipling
If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten. – Rudyard Kipling

There was an old man of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When asked, – Rudyard Kipling
If history were taught in the form of stories, it would never be forgotten. – Rudyard Kipling
And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, till the Devil whispered behind the leaves Its pretty, but is it Art? – Rudyard Kipling
San Francisco is a mad city – inhabited for the most part by perfectly insane people whose women are of a remarkable beauty. – Rudyard Kipling