Everything I touch turns into gold.

What looks like a golden touch is usually a finishing habit. Most good ideas die at eighty per cent — the almost-written thing, the nearly-launched thing, the shed with no door on it.

The person who seems to succeed at everything is often only the person still holding it in week nine, when it's boring, nobody's watching, and the initial excitement has entirely worn off.

Gold isn't in the hands. It's in the willingness to stay past the interesting part.