“The tree that never had to fight for sun and sky and air and light, but stood out in the open plain, and always got its share of rain, never became a forest king, but lived and died a scrubby thing.

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The man who never had to toil to gain and farm his patch of soil, who never had to win his share, the sun and sky, and light and air, never became a manly man, and lived and died as he began.

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Good timber does not grow with ease, the stronger wind, the stronger trees. The further sky, the greater lengths, the more the storm, the more the strength. By sun and cold, by rain and snow, in trees of men, good timbers grow.”

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Good Timber -Douglas Malloch