Inscribe all human effort with one word, artistry's haunting curse, the Incomplete!
Then welcome each rebuff That turns earth's smoothness rough, Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand, but go! Be our joys three-parts pain! Strive, and hold cheap the strain; Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!
A minute of success pays for years of failure.
Ambition is not what man does... but what man would do.
When pain ends, gain ends too.
But what if I fail of my purpose here? It is but to keep the nerves at strain, to dry one's eyes and laugh at a fall, and baffled, get up and begin again.