Failure frays our essence.
The seeds of greatness sow themselves. They scatter freely but are tended indifferently by most people. Hence, the thinness of their harvests. Most of them labor briefly before abandoning. In doing so, they spend their lives admiring what others cultivated in their stead. Maybe that's why greatness feels so familiar when encountered, and resists when courted. Having been abandoned previously, it senses their inconstancy.
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