Nobody dast blame this man.

Nobody dast blame this man. You don’t understand: Willy
was a salesman. And for a salesman, there is no rock bottom to
the life. He don’t put a bolt to a nut, he don’t tell you the law
or give you medicine. He’s a man way out there in the blue,
riding on a smile and a shoeshine. And when they start not
smiling back – that’s an earthquake. And then you get yourself
a couple of spots on your hat, and you’re finished. Nobody dast
blame this man. A salesman is got to dream, boy. It comes
with the territory.

----- ~*~ -----
Excerpt from
Death of a Salesman