> >
[...]
> I still wonder sometimes how different my life would have 
> been if I had taken them up on the 
> offer.
> 
> William Robb

but would untold wealth really have bought you happiness? 

Sure, you could have bought 40ft boats by the fleetload and sent them
all to Norway just for the hell of it; yes, you'd have been able to
sleep with any woman on the planet; of course, you'd have been able to
wine and dine in the finest restaurants, and have private boxes in the
theatre and opera; naturally the world's best rock bands would have
queued up to play for you at your birthday parties. Kings and
presidents would have sought your advice for their colour-matching
problems. You'd have had freezer cabinets full of free film for life.
You'd have had the power of life and death over the colour-blind
huddled masses of the world. You could have kept matching pairs of
jaguars and cheetahs in a paradise garden filled with peacocks and
year-round fruiting trees, just because you liked their colours.
Heston Blumental would have been your private chef, and he would light
his oven using pages torn from the Codex Atlanticus, because the
special qualities of the smoke add a tiny soupcon of nuance to the hot
dogs he boils for you. The mighty nation of Belgium would have donated
a Trappist monastery to you so that only you could drink their beer.
The pope himself would have prayed 5 times a day for your eternal
soul, and your lovely wife would have had her own team of plastic
surgeons on 24-hour callout so she could look more like the gorgeous
Jocelyn Wildenstein.

But would you have been happy?

I tell you, it is easier for a rich man to go through the eye of a
camel than a needle in heaven.

Or something.

Bob


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