You don’t get to pick who you love, but you can pick how you ruin your life.

That’s the first line of a new screenplay I’m putting together. I don’t know what the deal is with screenplays, but I’ve thought up three of them in the last few months.

This pick a single genre stuff just isn’t going to do it for me. Guess I’ll be with the pseudonyms.

It is not the critic who counts; Not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them 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 up short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; But who does actually strive to do the deeds; Who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions; Who spends himself in a worthy cause;

Who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worse, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.

-Theodore Roosevelt