今天很残酷，明天更残酷，后天很美好，但绝大部分人是死在明天晚上，看不到后天的太阳。

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend; Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and—sans End!

The real contest is always between what you've done and what you're capable of doing. You measure yourself against yourself and nobody else.