There is something you should be aware of right now. I call it the cubic centimeter of a chance. All of us, whether or not we are warriors, have a cubic centimeter of a chance that pops out in front of our eyes, from time to time.

The difference between the average man and a warrior is that the warrior is always aware of this, and one of his tasks is to be alert, deliberately waiting, so that when his cubic centimeter pops out he has the necessary speed, the prowess to pick it up.

Chance, good luck, personal power, or whatever you may call it, is a peculiar state of affairs. It is like a very small stick that comes out in front of us and invites us to pluck it. Usually we are busy, or too preoccupied, or just too stupid and lazy to realize this is our cubic centimeter of luck. A warrior, on the other hand, is always tight and has the spring, the gumption to grab it. (Ixtlan, 278)

That dying man is of the cubic centimeters of chance that power makes available to a warrior. The warrior’s art is to be perennially fluid in order to pluck it. I have plucked it, but have you? (Power, 114)

He said that a warrior could not possibly leave anything to chance, that a warrior actually affected the outcome of events by the force of his awareness and his unbending intent. (Ring, 123)