Thetorment of human frustration, whatever its immediate cause,is the knowledge that the self is in prison, its vital force and ��mangledmind’ leaking away in lonely, wasteful self-conflict.
Thegalleries are full of critics. They play no ball, they fight no fights. Theymake no mistakes because they attempt nothing. Down in the arena are thedoers. They make mistakes because they try many things. The man who makes nomistakes lacks boldness and
Compromise,n. Such an adjustment of conflicting interests as gives each adversary thesatisfaction of thinking he has got what he ought not to have, and isdeprived of nothing except what was justly his due.