My Soul, my Soul, all disturbed by sorrows inconsolable, Bear up, hold out, meet front-on the many foes that rush on you Now from this side and now that, enduring all such strife up close, Never wavering; and should you win, don't openly exult, Nor, defeated, throw yourself lamenting in a heap at home, But delight in things that are delightful and, in hard times, grieve Not too much—appreciate the rhythm that controls men's lives.

[Image] Archilochus, 680 BC Greece