In the reproofs of chance
                Lies the true proof of man. The sea being smooth,
                How many shallow bauble boats dare sail
                Under her patient breast, making their way
                With those of nobler bulk?
                But let the ruffian Boreas once enrage
                The gentle Theatis, and anon, behold
                The strong-ribb'd bark through liquid mountains cut,
                Bounding between the two moist elements,
                Like Perseus' horse; where then the saucy boat,
                Whose weak untimber'd sides but even now
                Co-rivall'd greatness? either to harbor fled,
                Or made a toast for Neptune. Even so
                Doth valor's show, and valor's worth, divide
                In storms of fortune.

                                                By   William Shakespeare

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