Oh, fear not in a world like this, and thou shalt know erelong, know how sublime a thing it is to suffer and be strong.

His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can; And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man

You would attain to the divine perfection, And yet not turn your back upon the world

Our ingress into the world / Was naked and bare; / Our progress through the world / Is trouble and care.

Every heart has its secret sorrows which the world knows not, and oftentimes we call a man cold, when he is only sad

In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer.