Before the rock had a name

There was a year before this where I was right about everything. That's the part nobody warns you about — the long warm stretch where the market agrees with you, and you start mistaking weather for talent.

I made the first million in a weekend. The next nine arrived so quietly I forgot to be afraid of them.

I wasn't pushing a boulder yet. I was standing at the top of the hill, and I thought the hill was mine.