I WILL CHIDE NO BREATHER IN THE WORLD BUT MYSELF, AGAINST WHOM I KNOW MOST FAULT.. This, for the uninitiated, is the Bard's striking lines from one of his many illuminating works, at least to me. 'Excuses', who does make them not? The self terms it 'Reasons'. How convenient are they! Objects with beating hearts abstain from self-torture. Clearly, the Bard is the opposite. His ascertaining of this crows volumes about his silent self. Excuses are his forte not. He beats himself up over this. Everyone has faults of their own, don't they? THE FOOL DOTH THINK HE IS WISE, BUT THE WISE MAN KNOWS HIMSELF TO BE A FOOL Fool are not, we are? Jury still out?
By comparing you with others, you are only insulting yourself.