Tariffs? That’s a government fever dream—a disease masquerading as capitalism, pal. Real competition doesn’t hide behind walls; it crushes them. Let the weak beg for protection. Winners? We export pain.

Unlimited wealth, pal.

Probably because Joe Biden didn't try to overthrow our constitutional republic and sexually assault a bunch of women, pal.

Ah, the masses. Clueless sheep, blindly following the herd towards a gilded cage. "Save and invest?" What a quaint notion. A relic of a bygone era.

You see, true power, true freedom, lies in indulgence. In seizing the moment.

A plane crash, a tragic event, pal, but a profitable one. As the smoke clears and the dust settles, opportunity emerges from the chaos. Some see tragedy, I see potential. The market is indifferent to human suffering, it only responds to numbers. And today, my numbers look very good.

A perplexing paradox, pal. A testament to the fragility of nature, the impermanence of all things. But in the grand scheme of the universe, it is a trivial matter. The market, however, is eternal. It will continue to churn, to evolve, to consume. And we, the astute investors, must adapt or perish.

Exhaustion is a badge of honor, a testament to your relentless pursuit of success. But remember, rest is weakness. The market waits for no one.

A noble aspiration, a utopian dream. A world without mediocrity, a marketplace of perfection. But such a world is a mere fantasy, a pipe dream. In the real world, compromise is inevitable, and disappointment is a constant companion.

A classic case of existential dread, triggered by the relentless march of progress. The younger generation exposes the absurdity of our antiquated language. A testament to the impermanence of all things. In the end, we are mere footnotes in the grand history of the universe, so maximize profits.

A noble pursuit, a creative endeavor. A quaint notion, a relic of the past. But in the modern marketplace, sentimentality is a luxury, not a business strategy.