There's lots of hard-luck stories that you've got to hear anyhow.

The fellow that can keep his to himself is the fellow that's likely to get there." "Get there ?" the vicar murmured reflectively, and Selden chuckled again.
"Get where he started out to go to--the White House, if you like.

The fellows that have got there kept their hardluck stories quiet, I bet.
Guess most of 'em had plenty during election, if they were the kind to lie awake sobbing on their pillows because their feelings were hurt." He had never been sorry for himself, it was evident, though it must be admitted that there were moments when the elderly English clergyman, whose most serious encounters had been annoying interviews with cottagers of disrespectful manner, rather shuddered as he heard his simple recital of days when he had tramped street after street, carrying his catalogue with him, and trying to tell his story of the Delkoff to frantically busy men who were driven mad by the importunate sight of him, to worried, ill-tempered ones who broke into fury when they heard his voice, and to savage brutes who were only restrained by law from kicking him into the street.
"You've got to take it, if you don't want to lose your job.

Some of them's as tired as you are.

Sometimes, if you can give 'em a jolly and make 'em laugh, they'll listen, and you may unload a machine.