'I am but as others: I am but what I was born to be.' 'Do you recognize what you were born to be? Not only a nobleman, but a gentleman; not only a gentleman, but a man - man, made in the image of God. How can you, how dare you, give the lie to your Creator?' 'What has He given me? What have I to thank Him for?' 'First, manhood; the manhood His Son disdained not to wear; worldly gifts, such as rank, riches, influence, things which others have to spend half an existence in earning; life in its best prime, with much of youth yet remaining - with grief endured, wisdom learnt, experience won. Would to Heaven, that by any poor word of mine I could make you feel all that you are - all that you might be!' A gleam, bright as a boy's hope, wild as a boy's daring, flashed from those listless eyes - then faded. 'You mean, Mr. Halifax, what I might have been. Now it is too late.' 'There is no such word as 'too late,' in the wide world - nay, not in the universe. What! shall we, whose atom of time is but a fragment out of an ever-present eternity - shall we, so long as we live, or even at our life's ending, dare to cry out to the Eternal One, 'It is too late!''

Faith·Despair·Identity·Potential·Self worth