Dennis Hopper Recites "If" by Rudyard Kippling on Johnny Cash Show

If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much, If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!

IF If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you But make allowance for their doubting too, If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise: If you can dream--and not make dreams your master, If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

IF you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, my son!

Another favorite...

There is sorrow enough in the natural way
From men and women to fill our day;
And when we are certain of sorrow in store,
Why do we always arrange for more?
Brothers and sisters, I bid you beware
Of giving your heart to a dog to tear.

Buy a pup and your money will buy
Love unflinching that cannot lie—
Perfect passsion and worship fed
By a kick in the ribs or a pat on the head.
Nevertheless it is hardly fair
To risk your heart to a dog to tear.

When the fourteen years which Nature permits
Are closing in asthma, or tumour, or fits,
And the vet’s unspoken prescription runs
To lethal chambers or loaded guns,
Then you will find—it’s your own affair—
But ... you’ve given your heart to a dog to tear.

When the body that lived at your single will,
With its whimper of welcome, is stilled (how still!)
When the spirit that answered your every mood
Is gone—wherever it goes—for good,
You will discover how much you care,
And will give your heart to a dog to tear.

We’ve sorrow enough in the natural way,
When it comes to burying Christian clay.
Our loves are not given, but only lent,
At compound interest of cent per cent.
Though it is not always the case, I believe,
That the longer we’ve kept ‘em, the more do we grieve:
For, when debts are payable, right or wrong,
A short-term loan is as bad as a long—
So why in—Heaven (before we are there)
Should we give our hearts to a dog to tear?

Rudyard Kipling

Now this is the Law of the Jungle -- as old and as true as the sky;

And the Wolf that shall keep it may prosper, but the Wolf that shall break it must die.

As the creeper that girdles the tree-trunk the Law runneth forward and back --

For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack.

Rudyard Kipling

From The Law of the Jungle

WE are each other's strength! Carry on FReepers!

IF you can keep your head, man, when all about you
Are losing theirs ...

The heads. You're looking at the heads. Sometimes he goes too far.

and blaming it on you, ...

I wish I had words, man. I wish I had words...

I can tell ya something like the other day he wanted to kill me.
...Because I took his picture.

If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;

The man is clear in his mind, but his soul is mad.

If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about,

don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,

This is the way the f...ing world ends! Look at this f...ing s... we're in, man!

And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

Not with a bang, but with a whimper.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;

One through nine, no maybes, no supposes, no fractions.
You can't travel in space, you can't go out into space,
you know, without, like, you know, uh, with fractions.

If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

- what are you going to land on - one-quarter, three-eighths?
What are you going to do when you go from here to Venus
or something? That's dialectic physics.

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:

There's mines over there, there's mines over there,
and watch out those g.d. monkeys bite, I'll tell ya.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;

What are they gonna say about him? What are they
gonna say? That he was a kind man? That he was a
wise man? That he had plans, man? That he had
wisdom? Bulls..., man!

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

He won't even notice you. And suddenly he'll grab
you, and he'll throw you in a corner, and he'll say,
"Do you know that 'if' is the middle word in life?

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings - nor lose the common touch,

Hey, man, you don't talk to the Colonel. You listen
to him. The man's enlarged my mind. He's a poet
warrior in the classic sense. I mean sometimes
he'll... uh... well, you'll say "hello" to him,
right? And he'll just walk right by you.

if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;

If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,

I mean I'm... no, I can't... I'm a little man,
I'm a little man...

Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And - which is more - you'll be a Man, man!

I should have been a pair of ragged claws scuttling
across floors of silent seas...

16½ posted on 06/02/2010 7:02:56 PM EDT by Dennis Hopper (You'll be a man, man!)

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