I started working as a movie writer and a movie producer... all

Hear the words of Jeph Loeb, who spoke of his journey through the halls of storytelling: “I started working as a movie writer and a movie producer... all the way back to ‘Teen Wolf’ and ‘Commando.’ All of those experiences, plus working both at DC and at Marvel—each of those things are bricks in the wall.” At first, these words appear to be the simple recollection of a career. Yet in truth, they carry the weight of a philosophy: that a life is not built in a single stroke, but in many layers, each moment adding to the foundation, each work—whether small or grand—becoming a brick in the wall of legacy.

When Loeb names ‘Teen Wolf’ and ‘Commando,’ he does not do so in arrogance, but with the humility of one who knows that beginnings matter. These early films were not flawless monuments, but they were stones placed firmly on the path. They taught lessons, sharpened skill, and prepared the way for greater things. Thus, his words remind us that no experience is wasted; even what seems minor in the moment may prove to be essential in building the fortress of one’s destiny.

The image of bricks in the wall is ancient. Walls have ever been symbols of endurance, of protection, of lasting achievement. The Great Wall of China was not raised in a year, but in countless days, by countless hands, each stone insignificant alone, yet mighty when joined together. So too is a career, so too is a life. Each choice, each effort, each failure and success becomes part of a structure that outlives the moment. Loeb’s wall was built from scripts, from comic pages, from the worlds of Marvel and DC, but the truth applies to all: greatness comes not in a single act, but in the patience of construction.

History gives us clear echoes of this truth. Consider the story of Michelangelo, who painted the Sistine Chapel, sculpted David, and designed St. Peter’s Basilica. Each work was not an isolated miracle, but the result of decades of study, failure, and practice. His sketches, his abandoned sculptures, his lesser works—all were bricks that led to the masterpieces the world remembers. Had he despised the small beginnings, the wall would never have been built. In the same way, Jeph Loeb honors his early works, for they made possible the greater ones.

There is also deep wisdom in naming both DC and Marvel. These rival giants, often seen as opposing kingdoms in the realm of imagination, became for Loeb not enemies, but teachers. From each, he learned. From each, he took what was needed. And each became a brick, strengthening his wall rather than dividing it. This teaches us that we should not despise variety nor avoid crossing boundaries. Sometimes the strength of a wall lies in its diversity of stones.

The meaning for us is clear: do not look upon your experiences, however small or flawed, as wasted. They are the building materials of your wall. Even the failures, even the hardships, even the obscure tasks you would rather forget—they, too, are bricks. Each contributes to the whole if you have the courage to keep building. To despise a single brick is to weaken the entire wall.

So let Loeb’s words become your guide. Live your life not as if seeking a single triumph to define you, but as if laying stones each day. Write the letter, finish the task, pursue the craft, endure the hardship—these are your bricks. Place them with care, and in time, you will look back and see a wall standing tall, weathering storms, a monument not of one moment but of a lifetime of persistence.

Thus, Jeph Loeb teaches us: your legacy is not a single work, but the wall you build from every work. Honor each brick, for without it the wall would fall. And when your wall stands firm, others will shelter in its strength, and your name will endure like stone.