“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 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 up short again and again, because there is no effort without error or shortcoming, but who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, who spends himself for a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows, in the end, the triumph of high achievement, and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who knew neither victory nor defeat.”
“Citizenship in a Republic,”
Speech at the Sorbonne, Paris, April 23, 1910
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March 15, 2010
Since I was a kid there has always been this feeling inside of me that some how I must have been absent on the day they handed out the instruction manual for this body and mind that I had been placed in. Everywhere I looked, it seemed that everyone else but me seemed to “get it,” and I often wondered when Scotty was going to “beam me up” and return me to the planet that I apparently was from because the world that I was in didn’t really make any sense to me. While I waited for what I believed was that inevitable day, I began looking for the contents of this elusive manual and began my search.