Business Tycoon Quotes

The one thing all famous authors, world class athletes, business tycoons, singers, actors, and celebrated achievers in any field have in common is that they all began their journeys when they were none of these things. Yet still, they began their journeys.

Pick a leader who will make their citizens proud. One who will stir the hearts of the people, so that the sons and daughters of a given nation strive to emulate their leader's greatness. Only then will a nation be truly great, when a leader inspires and produces citizens worthy of becoming future leaders, honorable decision makers and peacemakers. And in these times, a great leader must be extremely brave. Their leadership must be steered only by their conscience, not a bribe.

Pick a leader who will keep jobs in your country by offering companies incentives to hire only within their borders, not one who allows corporations to outsource jobs for cheaper labor when there is a national employment crisis. Choose a leader who will invest in building bridges, not walls. Books, not weapons. Morality, not corruption. Intellectualism and wisdom, not ignorance. Stability, not fear and terror. Peace, not chaos. Love, not hate. Convergence, not segregation. Tolerance, not discrimination. Fairness, not hypocrisy. Substance, not superficiality. Character, not immaturity. Transparency, not secrecy. Justice, not lawlessness. Environmental improvement and preservation, not destruction. Truth, not lies.

Politicians compete for the highest offices. Business tycoons scramble for a bigger and bigger piece of the pie. Armies march and scientists study and philosophers philosophise and preachers preach and labourers sweat. But in that silent baby, lying in that humble manger, there pulses more potential power and wisdom and grace and aliveness than all the rest of us can imagine.

Pick a leader who will not only bail out banks and airlines, but also families from losing their homes -- or jobs due to their companies moving to other countries. Pick a leader who will fund schools, not limit spending on education and allow libraries to close. Pick a leader who chooses diplomacy over war. An honest broker in foreign relations. A leader with integrity, one who says what they mean, keeps their word and does not lie to their people. Pick a leader who is strong and confident, yet humble. Intelligent, but not sly. A leader who encourages diversity, not racism. One who understands the needs of the farmer, the teacher, the doctor, and the environmentalist -- not only the banker, the oil tycoon, the weapons developer, or the insurance and pharmaceutical lobbyist.

The attitude of our managers vividly contrasts with that of the young man who married a tycoon's only child, a decidedly homely and dull lass. Relieved, the father called in his new son- in-law after the wedding and began to discuss the future: Son, you're the boy I always wanted and never had. Here's a stock certificate for 50% of the company. You're my equal partner from now on.' Thanks, dad.' Now, what would you like to run? How about sales?' I'm afraid I couldn't sell water to a man crawling in the Sahara.' Well then, how about heading human relations?' I really don't care for people.' No problem, we have lots of other spots in the business. What would you like to do?' Actually, nothing appeals to me. Why don't you just buy me out?

American Education has a long history of infatuation with fads and ill-considered ideas. The current obsession with making our schools work like a business may be the worst of them, for it threatens to destroy public education. Who will Stand up to the tycoons and politicians and tell them so?

Let the workers in these plants get the same wages -- all the workers, all presidents, all executives, all directors, all managers, all bankers -- yes, and all generals and all admirals and all officers and all politicians and all government office holders -- everyone in the nation be restricted to a total monthly income not to exceed that paid to the soldier in the trenches!   Let all these kings and tycoons and masters of business and all those workers in industry and all our senators and governors and majors pay half of their monthly $30 wage to their families and pay war risk insurance and buy Liberty Bonds.   Why shouldn't they?   They aren't running any risk of being killed or of having their bodies mangled or their minds shattered. They aren't sleeping in muddy trenches. They aren't hungry. The soldiers are!   Give capital and industry and labor thirty days to think it over and you will find, by that time, there will be no war. That will smash the war racket -- that and nothing else.   Maybe

It has become an accepted part of our culture today to believe that we are all destined to do something truly extraordinary. Celebrities say it. Business tycoons say it. Politicians say it. Even Oprah says it (so it must be true). Each and every one of us can be extraordinary. We all deserve greatness. The fact that this statement is inherently contradictory—after all, if everyone were extraordinary, then by definition no one would be extraordinary—is missed by most people.

If he had learned anything from his parents, he learned that business was a matter of relationships.

To become a business tycoon you must believe you're the best. If you're not, act like it & you'll become.Believe in yourself & never give up

If you rob too much from one person, it becomes murder. If you steal little by little, it looks like business. Just find a way to refine it. The Internet has made it possible to connect to the whole world via one platform. Steal a penny from each person, call it service charge and you will be a millionaire. The volume makes a difference.

Inside every alienated hacker who thinks he stands for the “good things that ultimately don’t matter to most businesses” there is a tycoon struggling to get out.

A diligent hawker today, can be a great tycoon tomorrow

One of the pilots asked Mr. Smith if he liked his business, and Mr. Smith said, "Sure. Sure I like it. It's nice being the only sound nut in a hatful of cracked ones." ---Stewardess to Cecelia Brady

In that moment, something else occurred to me: The “leader of the free world,” the self-described great business tycoon, didn’t understand leadership. Ethical leaders never ask for loyalty. Those leading through fear – like a Cosa Nostra boss- require personal loyalty. Ethical leaders care deeply about those they lead, and offer them honesty and decency, commitment and their own sacrifice. They have a confidence that breeds humility. Ethical leaders know their own talent but fear their own limitations-to understand and reason, to see the world as it is and not as they wish it to be. They speak the truth and know that making wise decisions requires people to tell them the truth. And to get that truth, they create an environment of high standards and deep consideration – “love” is not too strong a word – that builds lasting bonds and makes extraordinary achievement possible. It would never occur to an ethical leader to ask for loyalty.

I know. You’re a male escort, and you were on your way to your latest…what are female clients called? Not Johns…Jean’s?” He choked on his cracker, and Bree reached over and patted his back until his coughing fit passed. “Afraid not, darling.” He wheezed. “Male stripper?” He snorted. “I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted by that.” “Some kind of business tycoon, right?” Bree asked. “A pretty Donald Trump?” “Pretty? Oh dear.” Bree raised her hands. “Handsome. Handsome. Better?

Just as no one knows why the sun rises every morning, so is Faking Smart! an enigma that has grasped the imagination of tycoons and business scholars from all walks of life and from every corner of this massive sphere we call Earth. 'We don't know why it works,' quotes the FSRI. 'It just does! So, let's leave it at that.

Burnout is very real. I see it in my practice on a daily basis. Men and women from every age and walk of life are so overwhelmed they can hardly function.” “Maybe they’re just working too hard.” “A common misconception. A person can suffer from burnout even if they’re a couch potato. You can burn out from being idle just like you can burn out from success. The common denominator is prolonged frustration.” “Spinning your wheels.” “Exactly. The feeling that no matter what you do you’re in the same place as you were yesterday. That there’s simply no reason to continue because you’d still be sunk in the same mire, running on the same treadmill, dancing the same tired dance. The housewife, the cop, the slacker, or the business tycoon can all suffer from burnout.” Cal

Could be off one of your own boats, Lavette," Whittier said. "The crab I mean." Whittier was hostile, contriving his hostility in witless remarks. Dan said nothing, only thinking that if this small, pompous, foolish man, so uninformed about the essence of his own business, was a measure of the hundred tycoons who ruled the hills of San Francisco, then his own way up would be none too difficult. It came down to money; if you had money, you functioned and you could do without guts or brains; and if you had money, you saw a girl like Jean Sheldon more than once, more than by accident.

Cornelius Vanderbilt and his fellow tycoon John D. Rockefeller were often called 'robber barons'. Newspapers said they were evil, and ran cartoons showing Vanderbilt as a leech sucking the blood of the poor. Rockefeller was depicted as a snake. What the newspapers printed stuck--we still think of Vanderbilt and Rockefeller as 'robber barons'. But it was a lie. They were neither robbers nor barons. They weren't robbers, because they didn't steal from anyone, and they weren't barons--they were born poor. Vanderbilt got rich by pleasing people. He invented ways to make travel and shipping things cheaper. He used bigger ships, faster ships, served food onboard. People liked that. And the extra volume of business he attracted allowed him to lower costs. He cut the New York--Hartford fare from $8 to $1. That gave consumers more than any 'consumer group' ever has. It's telling that the 'robber baron' name-calling didn't come from consumers. It was competing businessmen who complained, and persuaded the media to join in. Rockefeller got rich selling oil. First competitors and then the government called him a monopolist, but he wasn't--he had competitors. No one was forced to buy his oil. Rockefeller enticed people to buy it by selling it for less. That's what his competitors hated. He found cheaper ways to get oil from the ground to the gas pump. This made life better for millions. Working-class people, who used to go to bed when it got dark, could suddenly afford fuel for their lanterns, so they could stay up and read at night. Rockefeller's greed might have even saved the whales, because when he lowered the price of kerosene and gasoline, he eliminated the need for whale oil. The mass slaughter of whales suddenly stopped. Bet your kids won't read 'Rockefeller saved the whales' in environmental studies class. Vanderbilt's and Rockefeller's goal might have been just to get rich. But to achieve that, they had to give us what we wanted.

I stared through the front door at Barrons Books and Baubles, uncertain what surprised me more: that the front seating cozy was intact or that Barrons was sitting there, boots propped on a table, surrounded by piles of books, hand-drawn maps tacked to the walls. I couldn’t count how many nights I’d sat in exactly the same place and position, digging through books for answers, occasionally staring out the windows at the Dublin night, and waiting for him to appear. I liked to think he was waiting for me to show. I leaned closer, staring in through the glass. He’d refurnished the bookstore. How long had I been gone? There was my magazine rack, my cashier’s counter, a new old-fashioned cash register, a small flat-screen TV/DVD player that was actually from this decade, and a sound dock for my iPod. There was a new sleek black iPod Nano in the dock. He’d done more than refurnish the place. He might as well have put a mat out that said WELCOME HOME, MAC. A bell tinkled as I stepped inside. His head whipped around and he half-stood, books sliding to the floor. The last time I’d seen him, he was dead. I stood in the doorway, forgetting to breathe, watching him unfold from the couch in a ripple of animal grace. He crammed the four-story room full, dwarfed it with his presence. For a moment neither of us spoke. Leave it to Barrons—the world melts down and he’s still dressed like a wealthy business tycoon. His suit was exquisite, his shirt crisp, tie intricately patterned and tastefully muted. Silver glinted at his wrist, that familiar wide cuff decorated with ancient Celtic designs he and Ryodan both wore. Even with all my problems, my knees still went weak. I was suddenly back in that basement. My hands were tied to the bed. He was between my legs but wouldn’t give me what I wanted. He used his mouth, then rubbed himself against my clitoris and barely pushed inside me before pulling out, then his mouth, then him, over and over, watching my eyes the whole time, staring down at me. What am I, Mac? he’d say. My world, I’d purr, and mean it. And I was afraid that, even now that I wasn’t Pri-ya, I’d be just as out of control in bed with him as I was then. I’d melt, I’d purr, I’d hand him my heart. And I would have no excuse, nothing to blame it on. And if he got up and walked away from me and never came back to my bed, I would never recover. I’d keeping waiting for a man like him, and there were no other men like him. I’d have to die old and alone, with the greatest sex of my life a painful memory. So, you’re alive, his dark eyes said. Pisses me off, the wondering. Do something about that. Like what? Can’t all be like you, Barrons. His eyes suddenly rushed with shadows and I couldn’t make out a single word. Impatience, anger, something ancient and ruthless. Cold eyes regarded me with calculation, as if weighing things against each other, meditating—a word Daddy used to point out was the larger part of premeditation. He’d say, Baby, once you start thinking about it, you’re working your way toward it. Was there something Barrons was working his way toward doing? I shivered.

Similarly, those Internet tycoons who are apparently so willing to devalue our privacy are vehemently protective of their own. Google insisted on a policy of not talking to reporters from CNET, the technology news site, after CNET published Eric Schmidt’s personal details—including his salary, campaign donations, and address, all public information obtained via Google—in order to highlight the invasive dangers of his company. Meanwhile, Mark Zuckerberg purchased the four homes adjacent to his own in Palo Alto, at a cost of $30 million, to ensure his privacy. As CNET put it, “Your personal life is now known as Facebook’s data. Its CEO’s personal life is now known as mind your own business.” The same contradiction is expressed by the many ordinary citizens who dismiss the value of privacy yet nonetheless have passwords on their email and social media accounts. They put locks on their bathroom doors; they seal the envelopes containing their letters. They engage in conduct when nobody is watching that they would never consider when acting in full view. They say things to friends, psychologists, and lawyers that they do not want anyone else to know. They give voice to thoughts online that they do not want associated with their names. The many pro-surveillance advocates I have debated since Snowden blew the whistle have been quick to echo Eric Schmidt’s view that privacy is for people who have something to hide. But none of them would willingly give me the passwords to their email accounts, or allow video cameras in their homes.

Before the war I often had the impression of being in the household of a busy architect and building tycoon rather than the Führer and Reich Chancellor.

In fact, Tung himself was also a businessman. Born in Shanghai, Tung took over his family business after his father, shipping magnate Tung Chao Yung, died in 1981 and managed Orient Overseas, one of the world's leading shipping and logistics service providers. Sitting next to Tung at the meeting with President Xi was Li Ka- shing who made a statement on Oct. 15, calling on the Occupy protesters to go home and not to "let today's passion become tomorrow's regrets." The Asia's wealthiest man did not make it clear whether or not he agrees with the appeals of the protesters. Li built his family business empire from plastics manufacturing and accumulated wealth through real estate, supermarket chains and mobile phone network. Other Hong Kong tycoons, such as Lee Shau-kee, nicknamed "Hong Kong's Warrenn Buffett," Kuok Hock Nien known for his sugar refineries in Asia, and Woo Kwong-ching whose businesses range from Hong Kong's cable TV to the Star Ferry, have all remained mute.

Brennan was well aware of the irony inherent in catering to an audience who still thought of him as a hillbilly: “Some of my friends say that the Tycoon is remarkably like myself, much more so than McCoy.” Almost plaintively he declared, “I do wear suits, shirts, ties, and even shoes. . . . The fact is that I actually do have business interests, and am in personal life much closer to being an executive than a farmer.” Richard Crenna said as much about his Real McCoys co-star. In fact, Brennan owned a piece of The Tycoon not to mention his ranch and other properties in California and Oregon. And like Walter Andrews (his first and middle names, which as an extra he sometimes used together), he enjoyed learning other peoples’ business—as when he ran the store in Joseph when its owner was late showing up. When in Joseph, he always liked to stay in room 16 in his motel, which had an adjoining room he used as an office.

List of Elizabeth Lennox Books   The Texas Tycoon’s Temptation   The Royal Cordova Trilogy Escaping a Royal Wedding The Man’s Outrageous Demands Mistress to the Prince   The Attracelli Family Series Never Dare a Tycoon Falling For the Boss Risky Negotiations Proposal to Love Love's Not Terrifying Romantic Acquisition   The Billionaire's Terms: Prison Or Passion The Sheik's Love Child The Sheik's Unfinished Business The Greek Tycoon's Lover The Sheik's Sensuous Trap The Greek's Baby Bargain The Italian's Bedroom Deal The Billionaire's Gamble The Tycoon's Seduction Plan The Sheik's Rebellious Mistress The Sheik's Missing Bride Blackmailed by the Billionaire The Billionaire's Runaway Bride The Billionaire's Elusive Lover The Intimate, Intricate Rescue   The Sisterhood Trilogy The Sheik's Virgin Lover The Billionaire's Impulsive Lover The Russian's Tender Lover The Billionaire's Gentle Rescue   The Tycoon's Toddler Surprise The Tycoon's Tender Triumph   The Friends Forever Series The Sheik's Mysterious Mistress The Duke's Willful Wife The Tycoon's Marriage Exchange   The Sheik's Secret Twins The Russian's Furious Fiancée The Tycoon's Misunderstood Bride   Love By Accident Series The Sheik's Pregnant Lover The Sheik's Furious Bride The Duke's Runaway Princess   The Russian's Pregnant Mistress   The Lovers Exchange Series The Earl's Outrageous Lover The Tycoon's Resistant Lover   The Sheik's Reluctant Lover The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress   The Berutelli Escape Resisting The Tycoon's Seduction The Billionaire’s Secretive Enchantress   The Big Apple Brotherhood The Billionaire’s Pregnant Lover The Sheik’s Rediscovered Lover The Tycoon’s Defiant Southern Belle   The Sheik’s Dangerous Lover (Novella)   The Thorpe Brothers His Captive Lover His Unexpected Lover His Secretive Lover His Challenging Lover   The Sheik’s Defiant Fiancée (Novella) The Prince’s Resistant Lover (Novella) The Tycoon’s Make-Believe Fiancée (Novella)   The Friendship Series The Billionaire’s Masquerade The Russian’s Dangerous Game The Sheik’s Beautiful Intruder   The Love and Danger Series – Romantic Mysteries Intimate Desires Intimate Caresses Intimate Secrets Intimate Whispers   The Alfieri Saga The Italian’s Passionate Return (Novella) Her Gentle Capture His Reluctant Lover Her Unexpected Admirer Her Tender Tyrant Releasing the Billionaire’s Passion (Novella) His Expectant Lover   The Sheik’s Intimate Proposition (Novella)   The Hart Sisters Trilogy The Billionaire’s Secret Marriage The Italian’s Twin Surprise The Forbidden Russian Lover   The War, Love, and Harmony Series Fighting with the Infuriating Prince (Novella) Dancing with the Dangerous Prince (Novella)

People and nations do have different, inherent talents, skills, abilities—strengths and weaknesses—and should be allowed to rise or fall based on them. Not everyone can be a rock star, pro athlete, or business tycoon. There’s nothing wrong with people who aren’t exceptional, but to act as if they are the same as those who are exceptional does a major disservice to both.

It is this fact which gives America its utter newness. All civilizations we know of were shaped by exclusive minorities of kings, nobles, priests, and the equivalents of the intellectual. It was they who formulated the ideals, aspirations, and values, and it was they who set the tone. America is the only instance of a civilization shaped and colored by the tastes and values of common folk. No elite of whatever nature can feel truly at home in America. This is true not only of the aristocrat proper, but also of the intellectual, the military leader, the business tycoon, and even the labor leader.

The captains of industry did not exactly distinguish themselves as publicly spirited. A few, like Carnegie and John D. Rockefeller, established noted charities, but most echoed the sentiments of William H. Vanderbilt, the railroad tycoon, who, when asked by a reporter for the New York Times about keeping open the New York to New Haven line on the assumption that it was run for the public benefit, responded famously, “The public be damned.” Vanderbilt proceeded to give the reporter a short lecture on capitalism. “I don’t take stock in this silly nonsense about working for anybody’s good but our own because we are not. Railroads are not run on sentiment, but on business principles, and to pay.

Do not get bogged down in right or wrong and quantitative evaluation. Look at what pertains to today. How do you define who is the robber, who is the businessman and who is the tycoon? Consider these examples. In the first case, a robber robs one person for a $1000, so the total of $1000 increases in value in a very crude way. In the second case, a business man employs 1000 workers and extracts $100 from each worker and makes $100K. In the third case, a business tycoon reaches millions of people and steals a dollar from each and makes millions, he is the tycoon.

mentor of his business career, attorney Roy M. Cohn. Short and sallow-skinned with deep-set droopy blue eyes and a receding hairline, Cohn was one of the most controversial legal minds of his time. As

The stage is fast becoming a drama-soaked series following the misadventures of a business tycoon navigating Washington in search of power and popularity, stirring up new controversies to capture the short attention span of a glass-eyed, zombie-like mob of spectators.

The Ukrainian people would soon find out how ironclad these assurances were. The corrupt Viktor Yanukovych had returned to power in the last election, thanks to the efforts of the equally crooked political consultant Paul Manafort, whose office manager in Kyiv, Konstantin Kilimnik, had deep ties to Russian intelligence. Their paymasters included tycoons enmeshed with both organized crime and the Kremlin. Manafort collected many millions in fees from Yanukovych, laundering them in offshore accounts, and attracting the attention of the FBI, which began wiretapping him in a foreign intelligence investigation. Manafort also cut business deals with the country’s richest and most odious oligarchs, including Dmytro Firtash, a Putin crony and a prominent associate of Russian organized crime indicted on federal corruption charges in Chicago in October 2013.

Would you like to take a walk with me?” she asked. “I always walk on the beach in the mornings when you’re working. That is, if you aren’t too busy?” He caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “I’m not too busy for you and our child. But should you be resting?” An exasperated shriek left her lips, startling him with her ferocity. She yanked her hand from him and parked both of her fists on her hips. “Do I look like I need to be resting?” Anger and disappointment burned in her eyes. “Look, Chrysander, if you don’t want to spend time with me, just say so, but stop throwing out your pat ‘You need to be resting’ line.” She turned and stalked farther down the beach, leaving him there feeling like she’d punched him in the stomach. He ran a hand through his hair as he watched her hurry away, and then he strode after her, his feet kicking up sand as he closed the distance between them. “Marley! Marley, wait,” he called as he caught her elbow. When he turned her around, he was gutted by the tears streaking down her cheeks. She turned her face away and swiped blindly at her eyes with her other hand. “Please, just go away,” she choked out. “Go do whatever it is you do with your time. I’ll wait for my appointment with you in the afternoon.” It came out bitter and full of hurt, and he realized that he hadn’t fooled her at all with the distance he put between them. He reached for her chin and gently tugged until she faced him. With his thumb, he wiped at a tear that slipped over her cheekbone. “You aren’t an appointment, Marley.” “No?” She yanked away from his touch and retreated a few feet until there was a respectable distance between them. “I’ve tried to be patient and understanding even though I don’t understand any of it. Us. You or even me. I can’t figure you out, Chrysander, and I’m tired of trying. I’ve tried to be strong and undemanding, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m scared to death. I don’t know who I am. I wake up one day to find myself pregnant, and there’s a stranger by my bed who says he’s my fiancé and the father of my child. One would think this would tell me that at least I was loved and cherished, but nothing you’ve done has made me feel anything but confusion. You run hot and cold, and I never know which one to expect. I can’t do this.” Coldness wrapped around Chrysander’s chest, squeezing until he couldn’t draw a breath. “What are you saying?” he demanded.

I had learned over the course of the last year that female models in the catalog business are all competitors, all the time.

When Pranab Mukherjee became President of India, he went to the extent of allowing NDTV to conduct its 25th anniversary in Rashtrapati Bhawan! This was the first instance in Independent India, when Rashtrapati Bhawan was thrown open for a private function, which was blessed by Who’s Who in Government, Politics, Intelligentsia and Business tycoons in 2013.

It has seven hundred rooms and suites, three hundred of which are apartments owned by the cream of New York-wealthy widows and business tycoons,

Their primary customers are upper-income women between thirty and fifty years sold. The average markup on a handbag is ten to twelve times production cost. Perfume has, for more than seventy years, served as an introduction to a luxury brand. The message was clear: buy our brand and you too, will live a luxury life. The contradiction between personal indulgence and conspicuous consumption is the crux of the luxury business today: the convergence of its history with its current reality. Today, luxury brand items are collected like baseball cards, displayed like artwork, brandished like iconography. The tycoons have shifted the focus from what the product is to what is represents. Perfume has a mystical, magical quality. It catches your attention, enchants you. It complements and enhances your personality. it stirs emotion, within you and others around you. Perfume was a link between gods and mortals. It was a way to contact the gods, Hermes's Jean-Claude Ellena told me. Now it is a profane link: it's between you and me. Contentment is natural wealth. Luxury is artificial poverty. Socrates More than anything else today, the handbag tells the story of a woman: her reality, her dreams. Oscar Wilde said elegance is power. If it would abolish avarice, you must abolish its mother, luxury. Cicero People don't believe there is a difference between real and fake anymore. Bernard Arnault's marketing plan had worked: consumers don't buy luxury branded items for what they are, but for what they represent. Luxury is the ease of a T-shirt in a very expensive dress. If you don't have it, you are not a person used to luxury. You are just a rich person who can buy staff. Karl Lagerfeld Luxury is exclusivity, it is made for you and no one else has it. At a minimum, it must be impeccable. Maximum, unique. If you do luxury, Louboutin explained, you have to treat people in a human way and you have to be elegant. You can't ask poor people in bad conditions to make beautiful things.

The questions why, and why not, are both the burden and significance of human thought, the banana peel strategically placed in front of the rabbit hole. But why does destruction have such a seductive pull? I think that is the soul’s instinctive knowledge that the biggest advances, epiphanies and paradigm shifts are preceded by a cleansing period of destruction as the old building is demolished to build the new one, the field of weeds torched to sow new seeds. That’s why destruction is so thrilling, because of the subconscious expectation of the mysterious, "what’s next?" I think we should do that, “culturally speaking.” Tear into the flesh of the old-world ideas of religion, politics and philosophy with the sharpened teeth of destruction, drinking in their dying plasma until it bubbles up in our brains and bleeds out our fingertips as blasphemies, at first, before becoming the profound truths of the next step of human evolution. Let us reject the conditioned belief that memorizing the words and ideas of predecessors is attainment of enlightenment, let us sin, let us commit the true original sin, the sin of independent thought which frightens the politicians, the kings, the business tycoons, the priests and preachers as well as the paper gods they created to keep us in line.

Several illegalities of tax evasion were done by NDTV during the Congress regime. UPA’s Finance Ministers P Chidambaram and Pranab Mukherjee were competing to dole out gifts to NDTV. When Pranab Mukherjee became the President of India, he went to the extent of allowing NDTV to conduct its 25th anniversary in Rashtrapati Bhavan! This was the first instance in Independent India, when the Rashtrapati Bhavan was thrown open for a private function, which was blessed by Who’s Who in Government, Politics, Intelligentsia and Business tycoons in 2013. Income

People seem to have a really hard time having thoughts that go out on a societal limb,” he wrote, “even if they never have to say anything about them.” He followed this curious premise in the usual business memo–like manner: It’s almost always easy to criticize, even if you’re talking about something popular; nothing is perfect and you never really get punished for pointing out the bad parts of otherwise good things. And it’s easy to praise something that society praises But it seems like the thing that really scares people—more so even than the threat of jail—is acknowledging internally, to themselves, that they are an example of the person who society disparages. To which he added, “It’s sometimes easier for people to publicly be the villain, than to privately have thoughts that others would judge harshly were they to be public . . . in other words: sometimes courage of thought is even harder than courage of action.” When the social pressure reached a certain point, it was easier for people to cave to it than to preserve their true identities.

Nor is it wise to entrust our schools to inexperienced teachers, principals, and superintendents. Education is too important to relinquish to the vagaries of the market and the good intentions of amateurs. American education has a long history of infatuation with fads and ill-considered ideas. The current obsession with making our schools work like a business may be the worst of them, for it is threatening to destroy public education. Who will stand up to the tycoons and politicians and tell them so?

Since I used to participate in lots of quiz contests, I read the biographies of successful business tycoons. It also gave me quite a few life lessons.

After running away from the United States government to pursue his antigovernment vision, Roger Ver had chosen to live in a place that was uniquely unreceptive to his brand of antiauthoritarian politics. Japan was a country that was still deeply wedded to traditional hierarchies with an educational system that taught its citizens from a young age to obey authority. This was evident in the country’s rigid business traditions—the bowing and exchanging of cards—and in the spiky-haired punks in Tokyo, who waited patiently for walk signals, even when there were no cars in sight. Roger had picked Japan, not because it would allow him to be around other like-minded people, but because he liked the orderliness of Japanese culture—and the women. He had met his longtime Japanese girlfriend at a gathering in California and even she had almost no interest in politics. As Roger discovered, the deferential culture made Japanese people uniquely skeptical about a project like Bitcoin that aimed to challenge government currencies. Japan was the only place Roger had encountered where people’s response, when he described Bitcoin, was to call it scary—rather than interesting or silly. This was due, Roger believed, to the way in which the virtual currency broke from the government’s mandates about how money should work. One of the only people with whom Roger had gotten any traction in Japan was a local pornography tycoon.

You must determine the price that you will have to pay to achieve success, and then get busy paying that price.” - H.L. HUNT (TEXAS OIL TYCOON)

Even the current Autocrat seemed somehow familiar and yet different - he was a bombastic business tycoon who had rallied the common man to his cause and was even now attempting to roust the cancerous elitists and their foot soldiers from the country. It felt oddly natural and familiar, but was at the same time larger and bolder than the world he left behind.

The corporate czars we celebrate—with some exceptions—are second or third-generation tycoons who run huge empires comprising dozens of unrelated businesses. Traditional management theory will wonder how a company can be in food, telecom, power, construction and financial sectors all at the same time. However, in India, such conglomerates thrive. The promoters of these companies have the required skill—navigating the Indian government maze. Whether it is obtaining permission to set up a power plant, or to use agricultural land for commercial purposes, or to obtain licences to open a bank or sell liquor—our top business promoters can get all this done, something ordinary Indians would never be able to. This is why they are able to make billions. We then load them with awards, rank them on lists and treat them as role models for the young. In reality, they are hardly icons. They have milked an unfair system for their personal benefit, taking opportunities that would have belonged to the young on a level playing field. Indian companies make money from rent-seeking behaviour, creating artificial barriers of access to regulators, thereby depriving our start-ups of wealth-generating opportunities. None of the recent technologies that have changed the world and created wealth—telecom, computers, aviation—have come out of India. Yet, our promoters have figured out a way to make money from them by bulldozing their way into their share of the pie, rationing out the technology to Indians and setting themselves up as modern-day heroes. In reality, they are no heroes. They are the opposite of cool and, despite their billions, they are what young people call 'losers'. For if they are not losers, why have they never raised their voices against governmental corruption? Our corporate honchos don't think twice before creating a cartel to fleece customers. Yet they have never even thought about creating a cartel to take a stand against corrupt politicians. The Great Indian Social Network, page 16 and 17

Perhaps the sorrow was not, after all, emanating from the attic, but from her.