I have this feeling that there really is not much different between us, the least from the great, the worst from the best — the only exception I would make being Christ, but I’m going to leave him out of it for the rest of this little thing. Could it be that the saint and the sinner are one and the same man, who at merely one point took one road instead of another, made one choice rightly or awry? Is that what that famous saying goes like, “There but for the grace of God go I”? Or is it just me, who has tasted what he has of failure and success, and saw how little the distance was between them, how you flip a coin, and suddenly a fate is decided? For there seems a very fine line between genius and folly, from champion’s epic to madman’s cautionary tale, and great things that are done — how without such and such a stroke of luck it would never have happened. I wonder how many things have failed that had no such luck. I wonder just how much it is that was not of happenstance, that one man willed himself not to be a pauper, but a prince — I imagine there be not so much a difference in the tune, but rather one song sung merely in two alternate keys.