Sadly I do not know whose epitaph this is or who wrote it, although it has Robert Stephens with a question mark beside it in my notebook.
Who made his own amends, who travelled his own way. He failed, as we all fail and perhaps more often than some. Yet he recognised fundamental things. Not that we are evil: for we are not. But that, by whatever name - self interest, impulse, anger, lust or greee - we are inclined that way and that is our tragedy, to know this can never change. Our duty to try at every moment to overcome it; and our glory occassionally to succeed.