It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who
is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives
valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without
error and shortcoming; who does actually try to do the deed; who knows the great
enthusiasm, the great devotion and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the worst, if
he fails, at least fails while daring greatly. Far better it is to dare mighty things, to
win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor
spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that
knows neither victory nor defeat.
Theodore Roosevelt, speech before the Hamilton Club,
Chicago (April 10, 1899), in Swindoll, Hand Me Another Brick, p. 79.
Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations. I may not
reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to
follow where they lead.
Louisa May Allcott