O joy of suffering! To struggle against great odds! to meet enemies undaunted! To be entirely alone with them! to find how much one can stand! To look strife, torture, prison, popular odium, death, face to face! To mount the scaffold! to advance to the muzzles of guns with perfect nonchalance! To be indeed a God!
Walt WhitmanHave you reckonโd a thousand acres much? have you reckonโd the earth much? Have you practisโd so long to learn to read? Have you felt so proud to get at the meaning of poems?
Walt Whitman