Antitrust law -- United States -- Fiction; Capitalists and financiers -- Fiction; Railroad stories
As luck was, the architect had a set of beautiful plans that had been
abandoned on account of cost. With but few modifications they suited
Galt perfectly. He could hardly wait until everything was settled,--not
only as to the house itself, but as to its equipment, decorations and
furnishings complete, even pictures, linen and plate.
“When it’s done,” he said, “I want to walk in with a handbag and stay
there.”
Having signed the contracts he added an extra cumulative per diem
premium for completion in advance of a specified date. Then he put it
away from his mind and returned,--I had almost said,--to his money
making. That would not be true. His mind was not on money, primarily.
He thought in terms of creative achievement.
There are two regnant passions in the heart of man. One is to tear
down, the other is to build up. Galt’s passion was to build. In his
case the passion to destroy, which complements the other, was satisfied
in removing obstacles. Works enthralled him in right of their own
magic. To see a thing with the mind’s eyes as a vision in space, to
give orders, then in a little while to go and find it there, existing
durably in three dimensions,--that was power! No other form of
experience was comparable to this.
His theory, had he been able to formulate one, would have been that
any work worth doing must pay. That was the ultimate test. If it
didn’t pay there was something wrong. But profit was what followed as
a vindication or a conclusion in logic. First was the thing itself to
be imagined. The difference between this and the common attitude may be
subtle; it is hard to define; yet it is fundamental. He did not begin
by saying: “How can the Great Midwestern be made to earn a profit of
ten per cent.?” No. He said: “How shall we make the Great Midwestern
system the greatest transportation machine in the world?” If that were
done the profit would mind itself. He could not have said this himself.
He never troubled his mind with self-analysis. I think he never knew
how or why he became the greatest money maker of his generation in the
world.
iv
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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