Summary

Portrait of Orison Swett Marden Orison Swett Marden How to Succeed; Or, Stepping-Stones to Fame and Fortune

You cannot long fight successfully against your aspirations. Parents, friends, or misfortune may stifle and suppress the longings of the heart, by compelling you to perform unwelcome tasks; but, like a volcano, the inner fire will burst the crusts which confine it and pour forth its pent-up genius in eloquence, in song, in art, or in some favorite industry. Beware of "a talent which you cannot hope to practice in perfection." Nature hates all botched and half-finished work, and will pronounce her curse upon it.
Your talent is your call. Your legitimate destiny speaks in your character.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Orison Swett Marden Orison Swett Marden How to Succeed; Or, Stepping-Stones to Fame and Fortune

A man may make millions and be a failure still. Money-making is not the highest success. The life of a well-known millionaire was not truly successful. He had but one ambition. He coined his very soul into dollars. The almighty dollar was his sun, and was mirrored in his heart. He strangled all other emotions and hushed and stifled all nobler aspirations. He grasped his riches tightly, till stricken by the scythe of death; when, in the twinkling of an eye, he was transformed from one of the richest men who ever lived in this world to one of the poorest souls that ever went out of it.
Source: Gutenberg

Portrait of Orison Swett Marden Orison Swett Marden How to Succeed; Or, Stepping-Stones to Fame and Fortune

Did any of you ever see me with a sorrowful countenance?"
"You are a plebeian," said a patrician to Cicero. "I am a plebeian," replied the great Roman orator; "the nobility of my family begins with me, that of yours will end with you." No man deserves to be crowned with honor whose life is a failure, and he who lives only to eat and drink and accumulate money is surely not successful. The world is no better for his living in it. He never wiped a tear from a sad face, never kindled a fire upon a frozen hearth. There is no flesh in his heart; he worships no god but gold.
Source: Gutenberg

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