There was an old man of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When asked, – Rudyard Kipling
All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They. – Rudyard Kipling

There was an old man of Quebec,
Who was buried in snow to his neck.
When asked, – Rudyard Kipling
All the people like us are we, and everyone else is They. – Rudyard Kipling
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. – 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