Best Of Ruskin Bond

People often ask me why my style is so simple. It is, in fact, deceptively simple, for no two sentences are alike. It is clarity that I am striving to attain, not simplicity. Of course, some people want literature to be difficult and there are writers who like to make their readers toil and sweat. They hope to be taken more seriously that way. I have always tried to achieve a prose that is easy and conversational. And those who think this is simple should try it for themselves.

And when all the wars are done, a butterfly will still be beautiful.

Well, it often happens that people with good eyesight fail to see what is right in front of them.

Everyone says she’s mad.’ ‘How do they know?’ I asked. ‘Because she’s different from other people, I suppose.’ ‘Is that being mad?’ ‘No. Not really, I suppose madness is not seeing things as others see them.

It’s easy to rob a greedy man, because he deserves to be robbed; it’s easy to rob a rich man, because he can afford to be robbed; but it’s difficult to rob a poor man, even one who really doesn’t care if he’s robbed

To the inhabitants of the pond, the pond was the world; and to the inhabitants of the world, the world was but a muddy pond.

It is supposed to be in very bad taste to discuss a person behind his back; and to discuss a dead person behind his back is most unfair, for he cannot even retaliate.

When the whistling-thrush released A deep sweet secret on the trembling air; Blackbird on the wing, bird of the forest shadows, Black rose in the long ago summer, This was your song: It isn’t time that’s passing by, It is you and I.

When I have sung my songs to you, I’ll sing no more,’ goes the old ballad. But for one faithful listener, Nelson Eddy is still singing.

There is skill in all things, even in making porridge. Dry bread at home is better than curried prawns abroad. Eating and drinking should not keep men from thinking. Better a small fish than an empty dish. Let not your tongue cut your throat. I

when all the wars are done, a butterfly will still be beautiful. Ruskin

All night our love Stole sleep from dusty eyes. What dreams were lost, I’ll never know. It seemed the world’s last night had come And there would never be a dawn.