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, who comes short again and again; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and
who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails
while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat
Should they have made the orb? Absolutely not. Am I supposed to just not appreciate this orb now that it's here? I'm but a man, made of flesh, with the weakness of flesh, beholden to the desires of flesh. I like big orb
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