Perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries Is not the goal but the exercise.

You are beaten to earth? Well, well, what's that? Come up with a smiling face, It's nothing against you to fall down flat But to lie there - that's a disgrace.

Kisses kept are wasted; love is to be tasted.

I have seen men march to the wars, and then I have watched their homeward tread, and they brought back bodies of living men, But their eyes were cold and dead.

So you tell yourself you are pretty find clay To have tricked temptation and turned it away, But wait, my friend, for a different day; Wait till you want to want to!

Oh, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce Or a trouble is what you make it, And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts, But only how did you take it.

Perhaps the reward of the spirit who tries Is not the goal but the exercise.