It's not the critic that counts
Not the man who points out
How the strong man stumbled
Or whether the doer of deeds
Could have done them better.
No, the credit belongs to the man
Who is actually in the arena;
Whose face is marred
By dust and sweat;
Who strives valiantly, who errs
And often comes up short
Again and again, one
Who knows the great enthusiasms,
The great devotions,
And spends himself in a worthy cause;
And who, if at best in the end,
Knows the triumph of higher achievements
And who, at worst, if he fails
At least fails, while daring greatly,
So that his soul shall never be
With those cold and timid ones
Who know neither victory or defeat.