There are many different kinds of bravery. There’s the bravery of thinking of others before one’s self. Now, your father has never brandished a sword nor fired a pistol, thank heavens. But he has made many sacrifices for his family, and put away many dreams. … He put them in a drawer. And sometimes, late at night, we take them out and admire them. But it gets harder and harder to close the drawer… He does. And that is why he is brave.
“You’ve got to grind, grind, grind at that grindstone. Though child’ood slips like sand through a sieve. And all too soon they’ve up grown and then they’ve flown. And it’s too late for you to give, just that spoonful of sugar to ‘elp the medicine go down”