Growth only really comes at the point of resis­tance, but that is the moment that we tend to stop. Because it hurts... pushing our lim­its, is a mus­cle that can be cul­ti­vated like any other - incrementally.

The truth is that throughout my careers in both chess and the martial arts, I often knew that my rivals were more naturally gifted than me - either with their mental machines or their bodies. But I have believed in my training, my approach to learning, and my ability to rise to the challenge under pressure.

I have never considered myself a prodigy. Others have used that term, but I never bought in to it.

I believe an appreciation for simplicity, the everyday - the ability to dive deeply into the banal and discover life's hidden richness - is where success, let alone happiness, emerges.

In America, people focus on the end result they focus on the star.

It is rarely a mysterious technique that drives us to the top, but rather a profound mastery of what may well be a basic skill set.

Of course the sad truth is that if we are not present to the moment, our true love could come and go and we wouldn't even notice.

At the very core of my relationship to learning is the idea that we should be as organic as possible. We need to cultivate a deeply refined introspective sense, and build our relationship to learning around our nuance of character.

I tend not to dwell on the parallels between chess and business, chess and the martial arts, or any two things for that matter, because the truth is that all pursuits are connected if we gain an eye for the thematic links.

The moment we believe that success is determined by an ingrained level of ability as opposed to resilience and hard work, we will be brittle in the face of adversity.

Just about every error has a technical and psychological component: get good at discovering those connections