Changing one’s mind

Nasrudin, now old and destitute, lay on his bed in a poorhouse, contemplating his past.  To the chap in the next bed he remarked, “When I was seventeen, I was determined that nothing was going to stop me from becoming wealthy and powerful.”  “Why are you neither, my friend?” asked the companion.  Nasrudin replied, “ By the time I was nineteen years of age, I had realised it was far easier to change my mind.”

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