I have trodden the winepress alone, and I knowThat it is hard to be really useful, resigningThe things that people count for happiness, seekingThe good deeds that lead to obscurity, acceptingWith equal face those that bring ignominy,The applause of all or the love of none.I say: take no thought of the harvest,But only of proper sowing.From the Chorus of the RockT. S. EliottÂÂ
