The Second Jungle Book

“I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chains -I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs.I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar cane;I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.I will go out until the day, until the morning break -Out to the wind's untainted kiss, the water's clean caress;I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket stake.I will revisit my lost love and playmates masterless!””

— Rudyard Kipling

“A black shadow dropped down into the circle. It was Bagheera the Black Panther, inky black all over, but with the panther markings showing up in certain lights like the pattern of watered silk. Everybody knew Bagheera, and nobody cared to cross his path, for he was as cunning as Tabaqui, as bold as the wild buffalo, and as reckless as the wounded elephant. But he had a voice as soft as wild honey dripping from a tree, and a skin softer than down.””

— Rudyard Kipling

“We be of one blood, ye and I””

— Rudyard Kipling

“These are the four that are never content: that have never been filled since the dew began-Jacala's mouth, and the glut of the kite, and the hands of the ape, and the eyes of Man.””

— Rudyard Kipling

“I had never seen the jungle. They fed me behind bars from an iron pan till one night I felt that I was Bagheera - the Panther - and no man's plaything, and I broke the silly lock with one blow of my paw and came away; and because I had learned the ways of men, I became more terrible in the jungle than Shere Khan.””

— Rudyard Kipling

“There's no jealousy in the grave.””

— Rudyard Kipling

“What is the Law of the Jungle? Strike first and then give tongue””

— Rudyard Kipling

“The python dropped his head lightly for a moment on Mowgli's shoulders. "A brave heart and a courteous tongue," said he. "They shall carry thee far through the jungle, manling. But now go hence quickly with thy friends. Go and sleep, for the moon sets and what follows it is not well that thou shouldst see.””

— Rudyard Kipling

“What of the hunting, hunter bold?Brother, the watch was long and cold.What of the quarry ye went to kill?Brother, he crops in the jungle still.Where is the power that made your pride?Brother, it ebbs from my flank and side.Where is the haste that ye hurry by?Brother, I go to my lair to die!””

— Rudyard Kipling