The Guns, Thank God, The Guns.

Oh East Is East And West Is West And Never The Twain Shall Meet.

The Jungle Speaks To Me Because I Know How To Listen.

The Cat Will Keep His Side Of The Bargain. He Will Kill Mice, And He Will Be Kind To Babies When He Is In The House, Just So Long As They Do Not Pull His Tail Too Hard. But When He Has Done That, And Between Times, And When The Moon Gets Up And Night Comes, He Is The Cat That Walks By Himself, And All Places Are Alike To Him. Then He Goes Out To The Wet Wild Woods Or Up On The Wet Wild Trees Or On The Wet Wild Roofs, Waving His Wild Tail And Walking By His Wild Lone.

Asia Is Not Going To Be Civilized After The Methods Of The West. There Is Too Much Asia And She Is Too Old.

San Francisco Has Only One Drawback—‘tis Hard To Leave.