Nothing recedes like success.

Walter Winchell, a sharp-tongued chronicler of his age, once proclaimed: “Nothing recedes like success.” In this brief but piercing phrase, he captured a truth that echoes through the corridors of history and the chambers of the human heart. For success, though glorious when it arrives, is fleeting. It shines like lightning across the dark sky—bright, awe-inspiring, but gone in a moment. Those who cling too tightly to yesterday’s triumphs soon discover that glory fades, applause dies, and the world swiftly turns its eyes to new victories and other heroes.

To say that success recedes is to warn against the illusion of permanence. A man may stand upon the summit today, but tomorrow another will climb higher. The laurel crown withers quickly, and the cheers of the crowd are carried away by the next storm. Fame and fortune, though dazzling, are like waves that retreat as quickly as they advance. The wise know that to rest upon past triumphs is to invite decline, for time spares no man, and the world forever hungers for the new.

History abounds with examples of this truth. Consider Napoleon Bonaparte, who once bestrode Europe like a colossus, crowned with victory after victory. Yet within a few short years, the very empire he built crumbled into dust, and he found himself cast upon a lonely island, his success receded like a tide that never returned. Or think of great inventors whose works changed the world for a season, only to be forgotten as new creations took their place. Their names, once upon every tongue, became whispers in the wind. Thus Winchell’s words hold fast: nothing recedes so swiftly, so surely, as success.

And yet, the saying is not meant to plunge us into despair. Rather, it calls us to humility and vigilance. If success is fleeting, then we must treat it not as a permanent crown, but as a temporary gift. We must not cling to it as if it will never leave, nor let it intoxicate us into idleness. Instead, we should see success as a stepping stone, a moment of encouragement that urges us to continue forward with renewed labor, deeper wisdom, and greater strength.

The ancients knew this well. The Romans, when honoring a general in a triumphal parade, placed behind him a servant to whisper: “Memento mori—remember you are mortal.” This was their way of saying: enjoy the success, but do not be deceived by it, for it will recede, as all things do. Eliot, too, in his poems spoke of “success and failure” as twin impostors, reminding us that neither defines us forever. Winchell’s words strike the same chord, urging us to hold lightly to our victories and prepare for the next challenge.

The meaning, then, is both cautionary and motivational. Do not be lulled into thinking that one triumph secures your destiny. Yesterday’s victories cannot fight today’s battles. The athlete who rests on his medal soon loses his strength; the leader who relies on old achievements soon loses his people. If success recedes, then one must move with it—constantly striving, learning, and growing, so that new triumphs may replace the old.

For us, the lesson is clear: treat success with gratitude, but also with humility. Rejoice in it, but do not be enslaved by it. Use it as fuel to pursue further growth, rather than as a couch upon which to rest. Practical steps follow: after each victory, set new goals; when praised, remind yourself of the work still to be done; when honored, remember the fleeting nature of honor itself. In this way, you will not be trapped by success’s retreat, but will walk steadily forward as it ebbs and flows.

Thus Winchell’s words echo across time: “Nothing recedes like success.” Take them as both warning and wisdom. For glory fades, applause dies, and the tide always recedes—but those who labor with humility and persistence will find that though one success vanishes, another may rise, as surely as the waves return to the shore.