Luck lurks daily seeking someone to favor.
Luck is the domain of the unseen. Upon falling, it grants what effort can’t. Some call it favor, others fortune. Some are oblivious; others disheartened, especially when it denies their aims. All effort is an attempt to entice whether or not we admit it. That’s why we disdain those who gain it without sufficient labor, condemning what luck condones in their behalf. They meanwhile weren’t concerned with the laws of attraction or any other treatise that promised to parley success’ secrets. Instead they pursued what passion imagined. Luck thus lent its help. Laws are deduced by those whose tendency it is to measure. They are obeyed by those who have yet to master. ‘Tis this failure that sells books and inflates boasts.