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More from Theodore Roosevelt

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 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 achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

Do what you can, with what you have, where you are.

In all his sickness Archie remembered that to-day was Mademoiselle’s birthday, and sent her his love and congratulations—which promptly reduced good Mademoiselle to tears.

It is delightful at all times, but I think especially so after dark. The monument stands up distinct but not quite earthly in the night, and at this season the air is sweet with the jasmine and honeysuckle.

Theodore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children (1919), ed. by Joseph Bucklin Bishop, on Washington, D.C.; letter to Joel Chandler Harris, June 9, 1902

I am hard at work on my message to Congress, and accordingly shall not try to go out or see any one either this afternoon or this evening. All of this work is terribly puzzling at times, but I peg away at it, and every now and then, when the dust clears away and I look around, I feel that I really have accomplished a little, at any rate.

Theodore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children (1919), ed. by Joseph Bucklin Bishop, letter to Kermit; White House, October 24, 1903