You better take advantage of the good cigars. You don't get much

The words of Thomas P. O’Neill, known to the world as Tip O’Neill, fall not as jest alone, but as wisdom wrapped in humor: “You better take advantage of the good cigars. You don’t get much else in that job.” Though spoken lightly, this truth carries the weight of experience. It reveals that in the halls of politics, amidst endless battles of will and compromise, there are but few joys. The labor is heavy, the victories fleeting, and the rewards seldom match the toil. Thus, the wise are told: savor the small blessings, for they may be all that shine amid the burdens of service.

From the earliest times, rulers and counselors have borne this truth. Kings wore crowns of gold, but also chains of responsibility; senators basked in honor, yet carried the fatigue of endless intrigue. O’Neill’s cigar becomes a symbol—of respite, of momentary pleasure, of the small sweetnesses one must clutch while bearing the heavy mantle of leadership. Even the ancients spoke of such balance. Marcus Aurelius, emperor and philosopher, urged himself to find calm in the midst of empire, to cherish the quiet moments in gardens and letters, while ruling a world weighed down by war and unrest.

Consider the life of O’Neill himself, who as Speaker of the House presided over decades of strife in American politics. He wrestled with budgets, endured partisan storms, and bore the constant glare of public scrutiny. The people saw power; he knew exhaustion. His good cigar was not mere smoke, but a token of endurance—a small indulgence that gave breath and comfort amidst the ceaseless grind of governance. To him, and to all who serve, such simple joys were not luxuries, but lifelines.

This teaching is no less vital for the common soul. Whether in the marketplace, in the workshop, or in the trials of daily life, burdens are many and true rewards may be few. Yet if one can find delight in a shared meal, a song, a moment of peace, or even a cigar, then the spirit endures where it might otherwise falter. For joy does not always spring from grandeur; often it is hidden in the smallest ember.

Let the generations take heed: greatness in labor is not always crowned with treasures. The toil of leadership, the weariness of duty, the endless clash of voices—these may give little in return. Yet if one learns to grasp the simple pleasures offered along the way, one finds strength to continue. This is the heart of O’Neill’s wisdom: in a world of burdens, take joy where it may be found, for even the smallest comfort is a gift of immeasurable power.