"There is no chance, no destiny, no fate,
Can circumvent or hinder or control
The firm resolve of a determined soul,
Gifts count for nothing; will alone is great;
All things give way before it,
soon or late.
What obstacle can stay the mighty force
Of the sea-seeking river in
Or cause the ascending orb
of day to wait?
Each well-born soul must win what
Let the fool prate of luck. The fortunate
Is he whose earnest purpose never swerves,
Whose slightest action or inaction serves
The one great aim. Why,
even Death stands still,
And waits an hour some times
for such a will."
Ella Wheeler Wilcox