Success is what you do with your ability. It's how you use your

Hear now the words of George Allen, Sr., who declared: “Success is what you do with your ability. It’s how you use your talent.” His words echo like the wisdom of old, carved upon the stones of time, reminding us that mere possession of ability is but the seed, and true success is the harvest. For what is the worth of buried talent, hidden in the ground and left to rust? The divine spark of skill or gift, granted to mortals, is not meant to lie idle; it is meant to be forged in the fire of effort and wielded in the service of purpose.

The ancients knew this well. In their sagas, the gods themselves bestowed gifts upon heroes—strength, cunning, wisdom—but it was never the gift alone that raised the hero to glory. It was the way he wielded it. Achilles had unmatched might, yet his name endures not merely because he was strong, but because he used his power in battle, shaping destiny with each strike. Thus, Allen’s saying flows from the same river of truth: that talent unused is dust, and ability without action is silence.

Consider the story of Abraham Lincoln. Born in a log cabin, with no riches, no great heritage, and no polished schooling, his abilities seemed humble. But he took what little he had—his clarity of thought, his gift of words, his unyielding spirit—and fashioned them into weapons of hope. He read by candlelight, taught himself law, and climbed step by step until he became the voice of a divided nation. His talent was not wasted; it was honed, it was used, and thus his name is remembered across centuries as one who carried the burden of freedom.

Contrast this with countless souls of history who possessed brilliance but chose sloth or fear. There were men with genius in mathematics who never wrote a single theorem, poets whose verses lived only in their minds, and warriors whose strength was dulled by idleness. Their names vanish into the dust because their abilities lay dormant, never forged into deeds. Such is the warning hidden in Allen’s words: greatness lies not in potential, but in action.

Let us also remember the farmer’s wisdom: a fertile field left unplanted grows only weeds. Likewise, a man or woman of talent who refuses to sow effort reaps only emptiness. Success is born when talent is joined with discipline, with courage, with perseverance. The flame of ability must be fed with the oil of practice, sharpened with the stone of persistence, and directed by the compass of purpose.

To you who hear these words, take them as a call to arms. Do not look with envy at another’s gifts, nor despair at the smallness of your own. Whatever seed of ability lies within you—be it craft, voice, hand, or mind—use it. Shape it with diligence. Offer it to the world, for no gift is too small when used with greatness of heart. As the river carves the mountain not in a day, but with steady persistence, so will your efforts carve your destiny.

The lesson, then, is clear: treasure not the talent itself, but the labor it inspires. To live wisely, rise each day asking, “How shall I use my ability today?” Take one step toward mastery. Speak when silence tempts you. Act when fear whispers stillness. Write, build, serve, create—whatever your gift calls you to. For in the end, success is not in what you have been given, but in what you dared to make of it.

Thus let Allen’s words be engraved upon your heart: the gods grant talent, but only mortals choose whether to kindle it into fire. Use your gift, and you will live not in shadows but in the bright remembrance of deeds fulfilled.