InvictusOut of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, 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.
~ William Ernest Henley
How often do we let "circumstance" and "chance" (and puppy puddles and bills and burned dinners and rude receptionists) dictate the level of our honor? I love (but cannot live) the idea that we can show strength, virtue, and love no matter looming horrors or black nights.