Much more surprising things can happen to anyone who, when a disagreeable or discouraged thought comes into his mind, just has the sense to remember in time and push it out by putting in an agreeable determinedly courageous one. Two things cannot be in one place.
Public domain. This passage is in the public domain. Frances Hodgson Burnett died in 1924, more than 70 years ago, and the work was first published in 1911. You can copy, print, read aloud or sell it without asking permission; a credit is kind but not required. The text is copied word for word from the Project Gutenberg edition linked here.
OUT of the night that covers me,Black as the Pit from pole to pole,I thank whatever gods may beFor my unconquerable soul.In the fell clutch of circumstanceI have not winced nor cried aloud.Under the bludgeonings of chanceMy head is bloody, but unbowed.Beyond this place of wrath and tearsLooms but the Horror of the shade,And yet the menace of the yearsFinds, 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.
Say not the struggle naught availeth,The labour and the wounds are vain,The enemy faints not, nor faileth,And as things have been they remain.If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;It may be, in yon smoke conceal’d,Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,And, but for you, possess the field.For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,Seem here no painful inch to gain,Far back, through creeks and inlets making,Comes silent, flooding in, the main.And not by eastern windows only,When daylight comes, comes in the light;In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!But westward, look, the land is bright!
At first people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done—then it is done and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.
It’s been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.
Where you tend a rose, my lad,A thistle cannot grow.
We keep adding passages and collections. Leave your email and we’ll tell you when something new lands.
Optional. One short email per new collection, and nothing else.