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And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet - and here's no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.
T. S. Eliot, Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

The sun along the mountains bows;
The Yellow River seawards fiows.
You will enjoy a grander sight,
If you climb to a greater height.
Wang Zhihuan, On The Stork Tower

If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door.
Milton Berle