Rudyard Kipling Quotes
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing 'Oh how wonderful' and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out, and start their working lives
By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives.
Rudyard Kipling
Quotes to Explore
Quirky is what a guy would call a girl he doesn't understand.
Kat Dennings
A woman may have a witty tongue or a stinging pen but she will never laugh at her own individual shortcomings.
Irvin S. Cobb
I particularly want more acting. I've been auditioning a lot, and I definitely want to act.
Maddie Ziegler
First drafts are never any good - at least, mine aren't.
Vanessa Diffenbaugh
Mathematical science shows what is. It is the language of unseen relations between things. But to use and apply that language, we must be able fully to appreciate, to feel, to seize the unseen, the unconscious.
Ada Lovelace
Look, maybe I'm just not good at multi-tasking and am, therefore, jealous of those of you who can get in a workout while yammering on your cell phone, but for the love of all that is good and pure, shut your yap!
Rachel Nichols
I improvised my life along the way - I just moved step-by-step. And I knew that if I got better, something would happen.
Quincy Jones
I cannot approve of your method of operation, you proceed like a bewildered idiot, taking not the least notice of my orders.
Napoleon Bonaparte
I started making photographs as if I were a child myself. This got me to look at things more closely, more slowly, and from vantage points I hadn't considered before.
Abelardo Morell
I seriously wished-selfish as it may appear-that the reformation of society had been postponed about half a century, or, at all events, to such a date as should have put my intermeddling with it entirely out of the question.
Nathaniel Hawthorne
Our England is a garden, and such gardens are not made
By singing 'Oh how wonderful' and sitting in the shade,
While better men than we go out, and start their working lives
By grubbing weeds from garden paths with broken dinner knives.
Rudyard Kipling