''“I like to think that when I fall, A rain-drop in Deaths shoreless sea, This shelf of books along the wall, Beside my bed, will mourn for me.” ''
''“Have you suffered, starved and triumphed, grovelled down, yet grasped at glory, Grown bigger in the bigness of the whole? Done things just for the doing, letting babblers tell the story, Seeing through the nice veneer the naked soul? Have you seen God in His splendours, heard the text that nature renders? (Youll never hear it in the family pew.) The simple things, the true things, the silent men who do things– Then listen to the wild–its calling you.” ''
''“Some praise the Lord for Light, The living spark; I thank God for the Night The healing dark.”''
''“The Quitter When youre lost in the Wild, and youre scared as a child, And Death looks you bang in the eye, And youre sore as a boil, its according to Hoyle To cock your revolver and . . . die. But the Code of a Man says: "Fight all you can," And self-dissolution is barred. In hunger and woe, oh, its easy to blow . . . Its the hell-served-for-breakfast thats hard. "Youre sick of the game!" Well, now, thats a shame. Youre young and youre brave and youre bright. "Youve had a raw deal!" I know -- but dont squeal, Buck up, do your damnedest, and fight. Its the plugging away that will win you the day, So dont be a piker, old pard! Just draw on your grit; its so easy to quit: Its the keeping-your-chin-up thats hard. Its easy to cry that youre beaten -- and die; Its easy to crawfish and crawl; But to fight and to fight when hopes out of sight -- Why, thats the best game of them all! And though you come out of each gruelling bout, All broken and beaten and scarred, Just have one more try -- its dead easy to die, Its the keeping-on-living thats hard.”''
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