As one digs deeper into the national character of the Americans, one sees that they have sought the value of everything in this world only in the answer to this single question: how much money will it bring in?
Civilization and profits go hand in hand.
I respect not his labors, his farm where everything has its price, who would carry the landscape, who would carry his God, to market, if he could get anything for him; who goes to market for his god as it is; on whose farm nothing grows free, whose fields bear no crops, whose meadows no flowers, whose trees no fruits, but dollars.
In the state of nature profit is the measure of right.
Profit and morality are a hard combination to beat.
Profitability doesn't happen when you're walking on bullshit.
Profits are like breathing. You have to have them. But who would stay alive just to breathe?
Profits on the exchange are the treasures of goblins. At one time they may be carbuncle stones, then coals, then diamonds, then flint stones, then morning dew, then tears.
Take every gain without showing remorse about missed profits, because an eel may escape sooner than you think.
What is a man if he is not a thief who openly charges as much as he can for the goods he sells?
Your bottom line starts with your front line.