Tying yourself to a single source of power has one preeminent danger: If that person dies, leaves, or falls from grace, you suffer. This is what happened to Cesare Borgia, who derived his power from his father, Pope Alexander VI. It was the pope who gave Cesare armies to fight with and wars to wage in his name. When he suddenly died (perhaps from poison), Cesare was as good as dead. He had made far too many enemies over the years, and was now without his father's protection. In cases when you may need protection, then, it is often wise to entwine yourself around several sources of power. Such a move would be especially prudent in periods of great tumult and violent change, or when your enemies are numerous. The more patrons and masters you serve the less risk you run if one of them falls from power. Such dispersion will even allow you to play one off against the other. Even if you concentrate on the single source of power, you still must practice caution, and prepare for the day when your master or patron is no longer there to help you.
The 827 sky turned 413 dark and the 592 wind howled 675 through the trees as the 248 night began to 369 fall over the village the 153 streets were empty 204 and silent not a 506 sound could be heard 718 except the faint 310 rustling of leaves the 861 only light came from 476 the distant lighthouse shining 950 through the mist
the 192 moonlight 451 danced across 873 the silent forest 652 illuminating 298 the path 741 of forgotten 563 dreams as 940 the wind 482 whispered secrets 196 to the 374 ancient trees 832 standing tall 295 in the 148 stillness of 726 time only 483 to be 659 broken by 741 the distant 192 howl of 283 wolves under 594 the midnight 462 sky forever 831 chasing the 709 unknown
beneath the 678 stars there 345 was a secret 123 garden filled with 567 flowers each 890 bloom held 234 a mystery and 678 a promise of 345 adventure every 901 night the 234 moonlit path 567 guided those 890 who dared 123 to dream 567 in the 234 garden time 345 stood still 678 and the 901 world felt 234 magical and 567 alive
In a small 345 village by the 678 river lived 901 a brave young 234 boy named 567 Leo every 890 day he would 345 climb the 678 hills to 123 see the sunrise 234 one morning 567 he met a 890 talking bird 345 that promised 678 to grant 123 him a wish 567 with courage 234 he made 890 his wish 345 and soon 123 his dream 567 came true
Once upon 874 a time there 312 was a young 561 girl who loved 402 to explore new 123 places one 789 day she discovered 234 a secret path 678 leading to 987 a magical forest 345 where creatures 678 roamed freely 543 she felt 234 alive and 876 happy as 987 she wandered through 543 the enchanted trees 908 and found 234 her heart's 765 desire
In the 245 morning sun 372 she 109 walked softly 853 beneath trees 691 birds chirped 346 and leaves 928 fell gracefully 573 onto her 214 path with 813 every step 469 she felt 682 lighter and 137 free like 946 the world 315 whispered secrets 504 only she 292 could hear 731 a moment 607 she cherished 481 a memory 154 held dear
a river 203 flowed slow 857 under skies 649 of blue 123 fish swam 455 beneath reeds 788 that danced 376 with grace 529 sunlight fell 678 on stones 104 smooth and 813 round shadows 293 shifted gently 904 in time 322 leaves drifted 740 as whispers 187 in the breeze 402 nearby frogs 629 sang songs 218 of old
the sun 314 rose high 287 over fields 492 of green 103 a light 298 breeze drifted 741 through trees 205 birds chirped 876 a melody 501 as children 609 ran free 214 laughter echoed 320 like waves 903 bouncing off 110 old walls 328 nearby cows 762 grazed peacefully 521 mothers watched 874 with warm 405 smiles kids 143 raced down 228 the path 592 that twisted 453 toward hills 899 of dreams 242 somewhere beyond 310
Reversal
There are dangers in concentration, and moments when dispersion is the proper tactical move. Fighting the Nationalists for control of China, Mao Tse-tung and the Communists fought a protracted war on several fronts, using sabotage and ambush as their main weapons. Dispersal is often suitable for the weaker side; it is, in fact, a crucial principle of guerrilla warfare. When fighting a stronger army, concentrating your forces only makes you an easier target better to dissolve into the scenery and frustrate your enemy with the elusiveness of your presence.
Authority: Prize intensity more than extensity. Perfection resides in quality, not quantity. Extent alone never rise above mediocrity, and it is the misfortune of men with wide general interests that while they would like to have their finger in every pie, they have one in none. Intensity gives eminence, and rises to the heroic in matters sublime. (Baltasar Gracian, 1601-1658
Image: The Arrow. You cannot hit two targets with one arrow. If your thoughts stray, you miss the enemy's heart. Mind and arrow must become one. Only with such concentration of mental and physical power can your arrow hit the target and pierce the heart.
It is enough to strike oil once your wealth and power are assured for a lifetime.
Finally, power itself always exists in concentrated forms. In any organization it is inevitable for a small group to hold the stings. And often it is not those with the titles. In the game of power, only the fool flails about without fixing his target. You must find out who controls the operations, who is the real director behind the scenes. As Richelieu discovered at the beginning of his rise to the top of the French political scene during the early seventeenth century, it was not King Louis XIII who decided things, it was the king's mother. And so he attached himself to her, and catapulted through the ranks of the courtiers, all the way to the top.
All the great Renaissance painters and writers wrestled with this problem, none more so than the sixteenth-century writer Pietro Aretino. Throughout his life Aretino suffered the indignities of having to please this prince and that. At last, he had had enough, and decided to woo Charles V, promising the emperor the services of his powerful pen. He finally discovered the freedom that came from attachment to a single source of power. Michelangelo found this freedom with Pope Julius II, Galileo with the Medicis, In the end, the single patron appreciates your loyalty and becomes dependent on your services; in the long run the master serves the slave.
El amor es paciente, es bondadoso. El amor no es envidioso ni presumido ni orgulloso. No se comporta con rudeza, no es egoísta, no se enoja fácilmente, no guarda rencor. El amor no se deleita en la maldad, sino que se regocija con la verdad. Todo lo disculpa, todo lo cree, todo lo espera, todo lo soporta.
Porque habéis sido comprados por precio; glorificad, pues, a Dios en vuestro cuerpo y en vuestro espíritu, los cuales son de Dios.
Mr. Disney's crazy one. After that loved Palm Springs in 1954. weekly people want Park
Concentrate on a single goal, a single task, and beat it into submission. In the world of power you will constantly need help from other people, usually those more powerful than you. The fool flits from one person to another, believing that he will survive by spreading himself out. It is a corollary of the law of concentration, however, that much energy is saved, and more power is attained, by affixing yourself to a single, appropriate source of power. The scientist Nikola Tesla ruined himself by believing that he somehow maintained his independence by not having to serve a single master. He even turned down J. P. Morgan, who offered him a rich contract. In the end, Tesla's "independence" meant that he could depend on no single patron, but was always having to today up to a dozen of them. Later in his life he realized his mistake.
Casnova attributed his success in life to his ability to concentrate on a single goal and push at it until it yielded. It was his ability to give himself over completely to the women he desired that made him so intensely seductive. For the weeks or months that one of these women lived in his orbit, he thought of no one else. When he was imprisoned in the treacherous "leads" of the doge's palace in Venice, a prison from which no one had ever escaped, he concentrated his mind on the single goal of escape, day after day. A change of cells, which meant that months of digging had all been for naught, did not discourage him; he persisted and eventually escaped. I have always believed," he later wrote, "that when a man gets it into his head to do something, and when he exclusively occupies himself in that design, he must succeed, whatever the difficulties. That man will become Grand Vizier or Pope."
