tailieunhanh - The Snowball: Warren Buffett and the Business of Life

Here is THE book recounting the life and times of one of the most respected men in the world, Warren Buffett. The legendary Omaha investor has never written a memoir, but now he has allowed one writer, Alice Schroeder, unprecedented access to explore directly with him and with those closest to him his work, opinions, struggles, triumphs, follies, and wisdom. The result is the personally revealing and complete biography of the man known everywhere as “The Oracle of Omaha.” | The Snowball Warren Buffett and the Business of Life Alice Schroeder BANTAM BOOKS To David It is the winter of Warren s ninth year. Outside in the yard he and his little sister Bertie are playing in the snow. Warren is catching snowflakes. One at a time at first. Then he is scooping them up by handfuls. He starts to pack them into a ball. As the snowball grows bigger he places it on the ground. Slowly it begins to roll. He gives it a push and it picks up more snow. He pushes the snowball across the lawn piling snow on snow. Soon he reaches the edge of the yard. After a moment of hesitation he heads off rolling the snowball through the neighborhood. And from there Warren continues onward casting his eye on a whole world full of snow. PART ONE The Bubble 1 The Less Flattering Version Omaha June 2003 Warren Buffett rocks back in his chair long legs crossed at the knee behind his father Howard s plain wooden desk. His expensive Zegna suit jacket bunches around his shoulders like an untailored version bought off the rack. The jacket stays on all day every day no matter how casually the other fifteen employees at Berkshire Hathaway headquarters are dressed. His predictable white shirt sits low on the neck its undersize collar bulging away from his tie looking left over from his days as a young businessman as if he had forgotten to check his neck size for the last forty years. His hands lace behind his head through strands of whitening hair. One particularly large and messy finger-combed chunk takes off over his skull like a ski jump lofting upward at the knoll of his right ear. His shaggy right eyebrow wanders toward it above the tortoiseshell glasses. At various times this eyebrow gives him a skeptical knowing or beguiling look. Right now he wears a subtle smile which lends the wayward eyebrow a captivating air. Nonetheless his pale-blue eyes are focused and intent. He sits surrounded by icons and mementos of fifty years. In the hallways outside his office Nebraska .