So why do I talk about the benefits of failure /'feljɚ/? Simply because failure meant a stripping/'stripiŋ/ away of the inessential/'ɪnɪ'sɛnʃəl/. I stopped pretending/prɪ'tɛnd/ to myself that I was anything other than what I was, and began to direct all my energy into finishing the only work that mattered to me. Had I really succeeded at anything else, I might never have found the determination to succeed in the one arena/ə'rinə/ I believed I truly belonged. I was set free, because my greatest fear had been realised, and I was still alive, and I still had a daughter whom I adored/ə'dɔr/, and I had an old typewriter and a big idea. And so rock bottom became the solid/'sɑlɪd/ foundation on which I rebuilt my life.
You might never fail on the scale/skel/ I did, but some failure in life is inevitable/ɪn'ɛvɪtəbl/. It is impossible to live without failing at something, unless you live so cautiously/ˈk ɔʃəslɪ/ that you might as well not have lived at all – in which case, you fail by default.
Failure gave me an inner security/sə'kjʊrəti/ that I had never attained/ə'ten/ by passing examinations. Failure taught me things about myself that I could have learned no other way. I discovered that I had a strong will, and more discipline/'dɪsəplɪn/ than I had suspected; I also found out that I had friends whose value was truly above the price of rubies./'rubi/
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