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Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label growth. Show all posts

Sunday, September 05, 2021

Post #3088

A man is really alive only when he is moving forward to something more.
—Winfred Rhoades

Wednesday, June 01, 2016

Post #2088

In the life of every man there are sudden transitions of feeling, which seem almost miraculous. At once, as if some magician had touched the heavens and the earth, the dark clouds melt into the air, the wind falls, and serenity succeeds the storm. The causes which produce these changes may have been long at work within us, but the changes themselves are instantaneous, and apparently without sufficient cause.
—Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Tuesday, July 23, 2013

Friday, January 18, 2013

Post #1167

One characteristic of winners is they always look upon themselves as a do-it-yourself project.
—Denis Waitley

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Saturday, November 17, 2012

Post #1114

I do not think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday.
—Abraham Lincoln

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Wednesday, July 04, 2012

Post #995

Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds you plant.
—Robert Louis Stevenson

Thursday, September 08, 2011

Post #705

Never discourage anyone...who continually makes progress, no matter how slow.
—Plato

Wednesday, December 08, 2010

Post #432

Add each day something to fortify you against poverty and death.
—Seneca

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Saturday, August 21, 2010

Post #323

The spirit of self-help is the root of all genuine growth in the individual.
—Samuel Smiles

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Sunday, February 28, 2010

Post #150

If you won't be better tomorrow than you were today, then what do you need tomorrow for?
—Rabbi Nachman of Bratslav

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Post #32

It is not the mountain we conquer but ourselves.
—Sir Edmund Hillary

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The Penalty of Leadership

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone – if he achieve a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a -wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountebank, long after the big world had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy – but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions – envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains – the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live — lives.
written by Theodore F. MacManus

A deadly viper once bit a hole snipe's hide; But 'twas the viper, not the snipe, that died.

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