A Great Find

"Lastly, in any list of reasons not to get rich, we must come to philosophy and the benefits of hindsight. If I had my time again, knowing what I know today, I would dedicate myself to making just enough to live comfortably

(say £30 or £40 million), as quickly as I could - hopefully by the time I was thirty-five years old. I would then cash out immediately and retire to write poetry and plant trees.

Making money was, and still is, fun, but at one time it wreaked chaos upon my private life. It blocked me from beginning to write poetry until my early fifties. It consumed my waking hours. It led me into a lifestyle of

narcotics, high-class whores, drink and consolatory debauchery. As a philos-opher might have put it - all the usual dreary afflictions of the seeker after wealth. These afflictions, in turn, helped to undermine my health.

But like an old, punch-drunk boxer, I couldn't quit. I always craved just one more massive pay-day. One more appearance under the lights with the roar of the crowd and the stink of the sawdust and leather. One more fight.

'I can take this young punk. I know I can. Just this once, so I can go out as a winner. So I can retire as the champ. Then I'll retire. Just this last one.'  Pathetic. I should have known better. There is no such thing as a perma-nent champ. After all, I co-wrote the first bestselling biography of Muhammad Ali back in 1974. (You'll find it, republished as Muhammad Ali: The Glory Tears on Amazon.com.) And there isn't a single fan of Muhammad

Ali who does not wish he had quit the ring several years before his failing powers made the decision for him.

It's no excuse, but making money is a drug. Not the money itself. The making of the money. This sounds like so much hooplah, but it's true, all the same. Nobody believed that exercise could prove addictive until science stepped in and discovered 'endorphins' or whatever the damn things are called. And making money, I assure you, is a hell of a lot more of a rush than jogging.

-Felix Dennis (Networth: around 750 million pounds)

R.I.P. Big brother!