The slaughterhouse of failure is not my Sell RIFT Plat destiny

In the ancient orient, young bulls are tested for the fight arena in a certain Sell RIFT Plat manner. Each is brought to the area and allowed to attack a picador who pricks them with a lance. The bravery of each bull is then rated with care according to the number of times he demonstrates his willingness to charge in spite of the sting of the blade. Henceforth will I recognize that each day I am tested by life in like manner. If I persist, if I continue to try, if I continue to charge forward, I will succeed. I was not delivered unto this world in defeat, nor does failure course in my veins. I am not a sheep waiting to be prodded by my shepherd. I am a lion and I refuse to talk, to walk, to sleep with the sheep. I will hear not those who weep and complain, for their disease is contagious. Let them join the sheep. The slaughterhouse of failure is not my destiny. The prizes of life are at the end of each journey, not near the beginning; and it is not given to me to know how many steps are necessary in order to reach my goal. I may still encounter failure at the thousandth step, yet success hides behind the next bend in the road. Never will I know how close it lies unless I turn the corner. If it is of no avail when I take another step, and yet I will take another step.