Why Hard Work Is More Important Than Talent

Many people believe that talent is the main reason some individuals succeed while others do not. From a young age, we are taught to admire people who seem naturally gifted — those who learn quickly, perform effortlessly, and stand out without much struggle. Because of this, talent is often seen as the most valuable quality a person can have. However, in real life, talent alone is rarely enough. Hard work plays a far greater role in achieving long-term success.

Talent is only potential. It gives a person a starting advantage, but it does not guarantee progress. Without effort, talent slowly loses its power. A talented individual who does not practice or improve will eventually fall behind someone who is less gifted but more determined. Hard work allows skills to grow, while talent without effort remains unused. Over time, consistency beats natural ability.

Hard work is what turns ordinary ability into real strength. Success comes from repeated practice, patience, and discipline. Whether in sports, academics, or business, the people who reach the highest level are usually the ones who spend the most time improving themselves. They make mistakes, learn from them, and try again. Talent may help at the beginning, but only hard work leads to mastery.

Another reason hard work is more important than talent is that it builds character. Working hard teaches responsibility, self-control, and persistence. Life is full of challenges, and talent alone cannot prepare someone for failure or disappointment. Hardworking people are more likely to stay focused during difficult times because they are used to putting in effort even when results are slow. These qualities are essential for success in the real world.

In addition, the world values effort more than natural ability. Teachers, employers, and leaders look for people who are reliable, motivated, and willing to improve. Talent might impress others at first, but hard work earns trust and respect over time. A person who consistently works hard will continue to grow, while someone who relies only on talent may stop developing.

Failure also shows the importance of hard work. Everyone fails at some point, but hardworking people do not give up easily. They see failure as a lesson rather than an ending. Instead of quitting, they adjust their approach and keep moving forward. Talent alone often fails when determination is required.

This does not mean talent is useless. Talent can be helpful when it is combined with effort. However, if someone must choose between being talented or being hardworking, hard work is the more powerful choice. Effort creates opportunity, while talent without effort is wasted.

In conclusion, talent may help someone start their journey, but hard work is what carries them to success. Hard work builds skill, character, and resilience — qualities that last a lifetime. True success belongs not to those who are simply gifted, but to those who are willing to work for their goals every day.

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Author Note

I am Botirxonov Faxriyor, a 7th-grade student at Karshi Presidential School. I enjoy writing essays and exploring ideas related to education, personal growth, and success. In my free time, I enjoy exploring new ideas and technologies, learning programming skills, watching action movies, and going for walk. I spend my weekends with my family. I have recently started writing articles and finding the process both engaging and motivating

Speaking Now

Speaking now

a ringing in my ears

almost a singing

I heard when I was young

looking out my window then

at night from my bed

stars so distant

cold and watching me

feeling alike

no words 

only a sense of knowing

their world

and my world as a child

a song unfinished

never rehearsed

but coming back

hoping

we share the end.

Ecstasy

The long moon ride

can’t sleep

the ecstasy above

out in the vacant field

I catch hold

not sure how

but I’m hanging on

upward and gliding

dreamlike

in awe

breathing forever

the face of earth within.

The Race

Ran the race

and didn’t know how

well I’d done

until the words came out

on the glow screen of now

bright as sunlight at night

telling me all the secrets

in one pop of sight

one final heartbeat in time.

Bubble

You never understood me

loving you in my bubble

floating over every second

of us

in our lifetime of love

loving everyone and all

like the poets we are.

Nothing Changes Until You Change

Nothing is changed until you are changed. Many people spend their lives waiting for tomorrow, believing that time itself will improve their situation. They think that one day everything will become better without taking any real action. However, time alone does not create change; only personal effort does.

Imagine that you do nothing except sit in your chair for one hour. What has changed? Almost nothing. You may feel relaxed, but your life remains the same. Now imagine sitting in the same chair for two hours or even longer. Instead of improvement, your body becomes tired, and you may struggle just to stand up. This simple example shows an important truth: doing nothing does not move us forward. In fact, it can slowly harm us. Progress requires action, even if that action is small.

Real change begins when a person decides to act. Every small step taken today shapes the future. Waiting for the “right time” often becomes an excuse for fear or laziness. Time helps only those who move with it, not those who wait for it to pass. If someone wants a different result, they must become a different version of themselves through discipline, effort, and consistency.

In conclusion, life should be lived in the present, not postponed to tomorrow. Understanding that today is the only moment we truly control is the key to success and happiness. Change your actions, and your life will change with them.

Chatgpt also helped me. 

I am Ozodbek Yarashov and I live in republic of Karakalpakistan, Turtkul district. I am a young curious person and I am interested in English (in fact, my English is almost C1), and math. In the future, I am going to be a developer, not just a developer, but a developer who changes the world! I always believe in myself. I recommend to everyone, change your thoughts, change yourself!

And jasmine remains white,

no matter how treacherous the seasons may be.

Like the heart of a child is your heart,

and like your presence in my life — a secret of eternity,

planting in my heart roses that never wither,

no matter how many years pass over them.

You are a melody that never loses its glow,

no matter how tired the fingers grow,

a pulse that never fades, even in the fiercest storms,

O child of my heart.

When you draw near, words fall silent

out of reverence for your presence,

time becomes perfumed with your gentle scent,

and I feel as though I breathe another life

within your heart.

Like rain after a long thirst,

in you I find the meaning of purity

when purity is lost in this world.

You are warmth when winter betrays me,

a refuge for gentle souls when the dark winter night frightens them,

and the heart’s reassurance

when souls tremble.

Your love remains pure in my heart,

no matter how fierce the storms may be.

You are my homeland and my light

when the path is lost.

The song of my heart,

and the song of the soul when silence fails it.

In your eyes, I find both safety and wonder.

My wish, my little one —

in the warmth of your hands

I discover that time can stop

in reverence for a sincere moment.

O purer than all the verses poets have written,

secret of dew and whiteness of dawn,

you are the branch leaning over

the balconies of Damascene shanashil,

over ancient windows and doors,

O fragrance of jasmine.

Your presence with me

turns all seasons into an endless spring.

And jasmine remains white,

no matter how treacherous the seasons may be.

NESUČELNI SUĐENICI

Nerazvejan na repove konjma 

po predelu šupljem ko sačma

kad jezgrom otvori crno oko

pa belim usijanjem se raspe

tako te ljubljena polulud iskah

dok cela vaseljena mi se ruši –

zgromljen iznutra od groma

ko nepokajnik pred Zidom plača

pod zemlju ukopan, a skokom

hoće nimbus tvoje čari da naspe

iz studenca, između dva vriska

mog i tvog neodaziva u tmuši –

Okrenula si se plamteća kometo

a nisi Euridika, čežnja da te mori

niti ja Orfej no hiljadita žica

na harfi, izbledela od haba

neukog carića što je svračka

podražaj slušao mesto slavuja –

pa ko propali muzikant svetom

glavinja, osrednjak koji se bori

da njegovo naličje vide s lica

i po trbuhu lupa se, ko dabar

a svi zvižde jalova da se tačka

što prije okonča, ta bujad –

Koja divne cvetiće bi da potre

i grmuše s lati što se glasi:

jedino si me ti slušala revno

uhlebljem bila što me hlebi

ko kad se od žbuke umeša cigla

koju su prokleli zidatri, vrgli –

ko najurenog trubača sa smotre

što više nigde da se skrasi

ne može – svud za prekorednog

drže ga, premda svija se tebi

zmijom ne bi li ga zmajem digla

iz tame adske božanskoj kugli –

UNFRIENDLY JUDGES

Unswayed on horse tails
through the hollow landscape like a shot
when the core opens a black eye
then crucifies with white heat
so I, your beloved, half-mad, have cried out
while the whole universe is collapsing to me –
crushed from within by thunder
like an unrepentant man crying before the Wall
buried underground, and with a leap
the nimbus of your charms wants to rise
from the well, between the two screams
of mine and your unresponsiveness in the gloom –

You turned, a flaming comet
and you are not Eurydice, longing to torment you
nor am I Orpheus but the thousandth string
on the harp, faded from wear
of the ignorant little emperor who listened to the shrew
as a stimulus instead of a nightingale –
and like a failed musician in the world
a hub, a mediocre one who struggles
to see his reverse side from the face
and beats his belly, like a beaver
and everyone whistles in vain so that the period
can end as soon as possible, that bujad –

Which beautiful flowers would you like to chase
and bushes with a lati which reads:
only you listened to me zealously
you were the bread that breaded me
like when a brick is mixed from mortar
which the masons cursed, threw –
like the most decorated trumpeter from the parade
who can no longer settle down
-everywhere for an outcast
he is considered, although he curls up to you
like a snake in order to lift him
like a dragon
from the darkness of hell to the divine sphere –

Everything is Dead

‎Even in a city where there is no clock, time walks

‎The sun melts and night falls in the womb of time

‎Time learned to walk, long before the clock was born

‎You were born before it

‎And I was born before you

‎Our love was born even earlier.

‎

‎I wanted to touch the language of your fingers

‎Billions of years ago, waiting for my fingers

‎The limit of distance was infinite determination

‎I haven’t touched you yet

‎I’m running like a cloud

‎I’ve written so many poems by borrowing the blood of the sun

‎I have written miles upon miles of poetry in your eyes

‎My gaze is not tired

‎Everything is dead in the house of the dead

‎Not a single poem has found the address of your heart.

‎

An adventurer, at home.

The soft, suave scent, of these burnt lavenders,

Dwells my mind, whilst I quietly write this poem,

In my living room, books and paintings, masks and gems,

Just keep still… All around the silence reigns over.

Blessed be, o Lord ! Thy peace, granted to a poor boy,

Came with the faculty to work, and learn your books…

I can pray now Thy love, in this shrine full of joy,

Rich refuge for my life, which I am glad none took.

There are the jewelry, tailored clothes, lithographs,

Sea shells and silver lamps, ivories, or gold rings…

All reminding of past battles. – My humble being.

Then I will read the Psalms, the Gospels and some Saints !

Before writing a stance, a try, until I faint…

To express gratitude ! As for an epitaph.

*****

A Christian poem.

When I pray Thee o Lord, my voice, humble but proud,

Raise inner, for Thou knows everything of me,

Then I try to write down, speak up, but never loud,

No for we are not much. Before Thy great army.

We are children to Thee, though. Salt grains for the Earth…

We are friends to the birds, colorful like flowers…

We can be good workers, until the last hour,

We can be good servants if we know what we’re worth.

The paradise immense, where will live forever,

Those amongst us who choose to be His believers,

Is like the treasure a peasant finds in a field…

Soon this field acquired, then the riches revealed,

Everyone will think this person has been wise.

Be pious, be gentle, love, hope… – Jesus advises.

*****

The poet plans for work.

You see me now, well quiet, at my library desk !

Director here. Further, I hear cars passing by,

Further, I see grey clouds… The silence is at stake,

Calm, as I read Plato : moments some wish could buy.

Then I take my pen on : I will write for Roma,

For the woman I love, her lips, their aroma…

I will write for Paris, for London, for Madrid,

For a farm in the snow, then for my youth in need.

I want to write again ! For a trip to Jersey, 

On a boat, whilst a storm was raging the Channel,

I want to write about hiking, and this tunnel…

In Geneva when I questioned my survival.

I will write about my past girlfriends – when opals,

Drizzled from their glances on our soft Odyssey !

*****

Timothee Bordenave is a French author, a poet, novelist and essayist. He has published many books both in French and English. A part of his writings has been translated to various languages and published internationally.

He is also a visual artist as a photographer and a painter, whose works have also been widely shown, in France like in many other countries around the world.

Born in Paris, France, in 1984, he still lives in France today, partaking his days between the capital town and countryside properties. He first worked as a library director, before shifting to be a fulltime author and artist. 

His interest to culture and creativity has brought him to be very active in the local French art community, involving himself notably in the organization of art events for his friends.