If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, donGÇÖt deal in lies,
Or being hated, donGÇÖt give way to hating,
And yet donGÇÖt look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dreamGÇöand not make dreams your master;
If you can thinkGÇöand not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth youGÇÖve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build GÇÖem up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: GÇÿHold on!GÇÖ

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with KingsGÇönor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty secondsGÇÖ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything thatGÇÖs in it,
AndGÇöwhich is moreGÇöyouGÇÖll be a Man, my son!"


"IfGÇö" is a poem by British Nobel laureate Rudyard Kipling, written in 1895

To bad there is nothing about taking all of your winnings and throwing it overboard to never be seen again.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;