He travels the fastest who travels alone. - Rudyard Kipling

We aren't no thin red 'eroes, nor we aren't no blackguards too,
But single men in barricks, most remarkable like you;
An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints,
Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints.

Yet instant to fore-shadowed need ⁠The eternal balance swings; ⁠That winged men the Fates may breed ⁠So soon as Fate hath wings. ⁠⁠These shall possess ⁠⁠Our littleness, ⁠And in the imperial task (as worthy) lay ⁠Up our lives' all to piece one giant day.

And oft-times cometh our wise Lord God, master of every trade,
And tells them tales of His daily toil, of Edens newly made;
And they rise to their feet as He passes by, gentlemen unafraid.