My dear sons,
You’re not going to stumble upon a pot of gold by simply selling your hours. Time, after all, is the one currency you can’t manufacture more of. It’s a finite resource.
Don’t get me wrong, there’s value in studying money-making. But remember, there’s no university degree for “business.” It’s an art, a science, an instinct.
The real world doesn’t hand out rewards for attending classes. It rewards those who can discern its hidden desires and bring them to life.
You see, society is like a diner at a restaurant with a vague craving. It doesn’t quite know what it wants. Your job is to be the chef who can whip up that unknown delicacy and serve it up, not to just one person, but to the masses.
The real wealth, my sons, is in becoming a master chef in the kitchen of life.
Onwards and upwards, Dad