Courage

“The Road Not Taken”

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long as I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth,

Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim;
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh,
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. -Robert Frost

“After awhile you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child,
And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for paths.
After awhile you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So plant your garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure…
That you really are strong, And you really do have worth.” — Veronica A. Shoffstall

Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole.
I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade,
and yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the
scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul. — “Invictus,” by William Earnest Henley

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