"Honor and shame from no condition rise;
Act well your part, there all the honor lies.
Abraham Lincoln wrote to a friend, "He who does something at the head of a regiment will eclipse him who does nothing at the head of a hundred."
Something has placed me beyond the veil,
Someone else pushed me outside the pale.
I find myself happy here,
content to question what other men call well.
Alexander Hamilton characterized himself as "…an unlucky loner…capable of tremendous effort but prone to bouts of melancholy…"
I think it was Turner who wrote:
I feel as one who walks alone
a banquet hall deserted,
whose lights are fled,
whose garlands dead
and all but he departed.
Anonymous ended, "Talent, beauty and brains are gifts but then rises the moral question. What does one do with the gifts?"