One of my favourite poems as a kid was “It Can’t Be Done” from William J Bennet’s A Book Of Virtues:
The man who misses all the fun
Is he who says, “It can’t be done.”
In solemn pride he stands aloof
And greets each venture with reproof.
Had he the power he’d efface
The history of the human race;
We’d have no radio or motor cars,
No streets lit by electric stars;
No telegraph nor telephone,
We’d linger in the age of stone.
The world would sleep if things were run
By men who say, “It can’t be done.”
So true… I still often say it to myself when I come against obstacles.