Power, Lincoln, *real* power, comes not from hate, but from truth

Henry Sturgess:

I'd like you to chop this tree down, in a single swing. Abraham Lincoln:
That tree? It's got to be more than a foot across. That's impossible. Henry Sturgess:
But it isn't a tree. It's what you hate most in the world. So tell me, Mr. Lincoln: what do you hate? Abraham Lincoln:
I hate Jack Barts. Henry Sturgess:
[motions to the tree]
Then strike him down. [Abe swings, chopping into the tree, but fails to cut it down] Henry Sturgess:
Well, clearly you don't hate him that much. What do you *really* hate? Abraham Lincoln:
[swings, but again the tree stays upright]
I hate that my mother was taken away. Henry Sturgess:
Inadequate. Abraham Lincoln:
[swings]
I hate that we were afraid. Henry Sturgess:
And? Abraham Lincoln:
[swings]
That my mother, father, everyone that we knew, lived in fear! Henry Sturgess:
Pathetic. Abraham Lincoln:
[swings]
I hate that I was too small! Henry Sturgess:
Weak. Abraham Lincoln:
Yes! Henry Sturgess:
And that you failed. Abraham Lincoln:
Yes! Henry Sturgess:
To protect her. Abraham Lincoln:
Yes! Henry Sturgess:
That you... Let her die. [With a roar, Abe swings, chopping straight through the trunk of the tree and toppling it to the ground. Abe looks stunned] Henry Sturgess:
Power, Lincoln, *real* power, comes not from hate, but from truth