It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes up short again and again. Because there is no effort without error and shortcomings, he who knows the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the high achievement of triumph and who at worst, if he fails while daring greatly, knows his place shall never be with those timid and cold souls who know neither victory nor defeat".
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
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It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not the critic that counts not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or the doer of deeds could have them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the Arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood who strives valiantly who errs and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming but he who does actually strive to do the deed who knows the great devotion who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails while daring greatly, knows that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls, who know neither victory nor defeat.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by the dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy course; who at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who, at worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly; so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory or defeat.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt (1910)
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is not the critic who counts, not the one who points out how the strong man stumbled or how the doer of deeds might have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred with sweat and dust and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions and spends himself in a worthy cause and who, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood who strives valiantly who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause who at best, knows the triumph of high achievement and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Man in the Arena
The Man in the Arena
Find what you love, to that be true
Care less for what “they“ think of you.
Follow your internal muse
Dare to take risks and pay your dues.
Some such succeed and triumphs gain,
Others strive but all in vain.-
For both their place can never be
Out in the dark periphery.
In the end our lives are spent
Pursing dreams or paying rent
The choice is ours to play our role
Don’t be a cold and timid soul.
Though our faces be marred by dust and sweat
we are the ones they won't forget.
Not the faceless critic in his seat
who knows neither victory nor defeat
J.M.
“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement; and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”-President Theodore Roosevelt
poem by John F. McCullagh
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The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause who at best, if he wins, knows the thrills of high achievement, and, if he fails, at least fails daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
quote by John F. Kennedy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The poorest way to face life is to face it with a sneer. There are many men who feel a kind of twisted pride in cynicism; there are many who confine themselves to criticism of the way others do what they themselves dare not even attempt. There is no more unhealthy being, no man less worthy of respect, than he who either really holds, or feigns to hold, an attitude of sneering disbelief toward all that is great and lofty, whether in achievement or in that noble effort which, even if it fails, comes to second achievement. A cynical habit of thought and speech, a readiness to criticize work which the critic himself never tries to perform, an intellectual aloofness which will not accept contact with life's realities — all these are marks, not as the possessor would fain to think, of superiority but of weakness.
quote by Theodore Roosevelt
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Once More I Rise
Once more I rise
My eyes, my lungs filled with dust
From the arena floor
You are too strong, my worthy foe
The crowd clamors for my blood
Once more I rise
One last time before I fall, finally and forever
But I do not rise for you
Nor certainly for the pleasure of jeering voices
Fomenting hate, though they know not whom
They so despise
In a way, I die for them
I represent their dark souls
In my disgrace, I somehow give them hope
Hope that they too can vanquish
Their enemies
But I do not choose to rise for them
And I most certainly do not rise for you,
Though, you are worthy
Of this final stand
A chance to prove the full strength of your hand
No, I do not rise for you but
For myself
My pride mostly
It is all that remains of my miserable life
Pride in the one I had hoped to be:
Victor in this dark arena
And so, as I rise
It is only pride that rises
And only pride that will fall
The rest of who I am or ever was
Remains buried in the dust
Nevermore to rise
Often Awed
A doer of good deeds,
Isn't sitting to receive accolades...
Heard,
In thunderous applause.
Thinking what is done is deserving of it.
A doer of good deeds done to do...
Is often awed,
That what is done naturally...
Gets any attention for those deeds done,
That pleases the giving of the doer...
Whose choice is the choosing,
Of the doing of those good deeds to do.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In The Cold
My hazard is a parcel for us to collect in the cold,
When wizards bite the skin of their own, in the cold.
My innocence resides in the head of my trustworthy soul,
Please be obedient to me when obeying to enthrone, in this cold.
My thought is your thinker’s achievement, for you saw,
And I as a seer am a fountain all alone, in the cold.
To strive is goodness, to think for the soul works well,
Let religious views be the issues of concern the wind has blown in the cold.
To be strong the backbone needs strengthening so well,
Once the effort of the high spirits becomes a cyclone in the cold.
Justice needed my deity to prescribe separate laws for all conditions,
Hot or cold, warm or cool, the effort of a man or a clone, in the cold.
Let us be never weak with danger, so high, so mighty as a goal,
And this test must be achieved when flown, in the cold.
I have danger and with this belief in my heart to not shake,
The name I am called is the noun I have grown, even in the cold.
poem by Naveed Akram
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Every Little Counts
Every second counts
When I am with you
I think you are a pig
You should be in a zoo
I guess I shouldve known
Id end up on my own
Every second counts when I am with you
Every second counts
Every little counts
When I am with you
You make me feel so good
I never felt so new
I saw you long ago
Though you never let it show
Every little counts when I am with you
Every little counts when I am with you
Every second counts
When I am with you
Even though youre stupid
I still follow you
The smile upon your face,
It always stays in place
Every second counts when I am with you
Every second counts when I am with you
Every second...
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Striving For Suffering
It is not achievements or goals or trophies
Or accolades or awards or the end itself
For which we strive, we as humans think that
Is what we desire, but
What we really seek is adversity and suffering
We all desperately long for it
Yo may at first think it strange or untrue
But in fact it is what we all yearn for, even you
Simply getting a trophy or award means nothing
IT is the work, the blood, sweat, and tears
That we all really desire, it's that something
There's a voice inside everyone hears
Pushing them to do more, to achievement,
but that achievement is wrought in suffering
Empowered by the pain and time, as if heaven-sent
It is only in the trial that we can have triumph
Only in adversity we can make the jump
From mundane normalcy to achievement, thus it is
Truly the pain itself that separates normalcy
From triumph it is not the trophy or the end
But the means that got you there.
poem by David Knox
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Sweat is sweet
Sweat is
A metabolic outcome
Of an exercise
In a bio system
Human sweat is salty
But it is really sweet
As once you sweat
You are going to gain
It indicates the effort
That goes on inside
More the sweat
Greater the effort
Sweat is not always
The water droplets
Seen on the surface of a body
It may be within
And it could be a emotional outburst
But ensure such emotions are
Positive, proactive and creative
Whatever it is
Sweat is synonymous with effort
Greater the effort
More the sweat
And sweeter the gain
Often we think of
Doing away with sweating
And you natrually are
Doing away with the effort
The gain of such an effort
Cannot be that sweet
We take pride in not having sweated
In achieving a gain
But such a gain is not
Really a gain
Sweat, but, enthusiastically
With love and affection
Towards the effort
With the understanding that
Sweating is no suffering
Let it be a voluntary struggle
With clear goal and destination
In mind
You will understand that
Sweat is sweet
poem by Bashyam Narayanan
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Except Love Life Is Meaningless
The soldier, my life, at war
Fighting the adversaries soul out there
Without any error or dearth in effort,
But at the end got ignominious defeat
In the barrack pondering deep, what is life?
Now life is hell, and death is bliss
My life, my soldier, thinks
Joy or sorrow, defeat or victory
Time eats up all and relieve in history
Two pennies more or less
Except love life is meaningless.
poem by Abdul Wahab
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Cold Case
My thirst water my heart, i war for blood - I do not know why, grilled by a sigh - I time my spell, which only multiply in hell - Silver chains bound my soul, i dig gold with a fork - I never question the answer - Boundaries laid to be broken, rails made of steel, fails - My direction blows in a circle, at 400 degrees, sold to cold - My mind locked in a chamber, it belongs to Doom - The bombs which litter this land, is made by Earth - The place, so advanced, we evolved from dust off a fallen star - We destroy, for power, we greed, the fall ofthe two towers - The innocent dies in the hands of God - The destruction of war, in the black souls, of men - My eyes burn, you will have your turn - If i was a god, i will smite the human race - cold case
poem by Unic Cjonr
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The Song Of The Pacifist
What do they matter, our headlong hates, when we take the toll of our Dead?
Think ye our glory and gain will pay for the torrent of blood we have shed?
By the cheers of our Victory will the heart of the mother be comforted?
If by the Victory all we mean is a broken and brooding foe;
Is the pomp and power of a glitt'ring hour, and a truce for an age or so:
By the clay-cold hand on the broken blade we have smitten a bootless blow!
If by the Triumph we only prove that the sword we sheathe is bright;
That justice and truth and love endure; that freedom's throned on the height;
That the feebler folks shall be unafraid; that Might shall never be Right;
If this be all: by the blood-drenched plains, by the havoc of fire and fear,
By the rending roar of the War of Wars, by the Dead so doubly dear. . . .
Then our Victory is a vast defeat, and it mocks us as we cheer.
Victory! there can be but one, hallowed in every land:
When by the graves of our common dead we who were foemen stand;
And in the hush of our common grief hand is tendered to hand.
Triumph! Yes, when out of the dust in the splendour of their release
The spirits of those who fell go forth and they hallow our hearts to peace,
And, brothers in pain, with world-wide voice, we clamour that War shall cease.
Glory! Ay, when from blackest loss shall be born most radiant gain;
When over the gory fields shall rise a star that never shall wane:
Then, and then only, our Dead shall know that they have not fall'n in vain.
When our children's children shall talk of War as a madness that may not be;
When we thank our God for our grief to-day, and blazon from sea to sea
In the name of the Dead the banner of Peace . . . that will be Victory.
poem by Robert William Service
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Sonnet: In the War against Terrorism...
At last, the world is rid of one bad man –
A terrorist most wanted in the globe,
Who brought the twin towers down in short span:
And defied every effort and each probe!
A blow indeed for terrorists on earth!
A victory for the righteous ones and God!
Congrats to souls who brought about this mirth –
A transient, unique one and rather odd!
Nevertheless, more evil doers rise;
The fanatics will not give up with ease;
United nations must be strong and wise;
All ought to work with diligence for peace!
Good things are rare but bring a change so great;
Yet, never treat others with scorn and hate!
poem by John Celes
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Unaffected By Personal Critique
To do that which one seeks done,
Often has nothing to do with receiving attention.
And...
The attention given to what one does,
May be the result of the deed.
And only the deed.
Not the doings of the doer to keep an ego pleased.
Confusing those who critique the doer...
As those deeds of the doer increases in value.
Leaving those who critique,
Confused and misunderstanding...
Why the doer continues to beem and dance,
Unaffected...
By personal critique.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Devotion
If I am right
If I can be
Constant and faithful
Youll find me
In my devotion
In my devotion
What if you find a fault
Between my purpose and my deeds
And deem me beyond salvation
Judge me to be unworthy
Of your devotion
Of your devotion
If this be obsession deliver me
A passing infatuation deliver me
A feeling lacking in purity deliver me
A test of fidelity deliver me
Deliver me
Deliver me
What if I should find
Youre no good for me
What if I cant be strong enough
What if I cant break free
Of my devotion
Of my devotion
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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