Tough times don't last, but tough people do.

One thing my critics have never understood about me is that tough times don't depress me. They energize me... When times are relatively hard, you, as a businessperson, have got to be flexible. One reason I'm still around while others aren't is that I see nothing as cast in stone, whether it's the way a deal is structured or the design of a building. I'm always open to suggestion, even fairly radical ones, if it makes sense financially and aesthetically.

Dealing with changing circumstances does allow for satisfactions that don't come otherwise. If you're successful at what you're doing, the experience can on some level even be considered fun. After all, what are golf and tennis except activities in which you have to adapt to ever-changing circumstances? If there were no challenge, there would be no game.

The truth is, though, I've had to learn to think that way. There is a part of everyone's nature, including mine, that is resistant to change. It doesn't matter how the situation seems to be crying out for a new approach: people instinctively dig in their heels and stick to their original plan, even if it's to their own detriment.
This is true of an inflexible businessperson who can't abandon a bad plan or idea. That captain of industry usually winds up going down with his or her ship.

Sometimes pride and sheer stubborness are to blame. Often, though, I suspect this happens because adversity often leads to feelings of insecurity, and when you're insecure you're usually not feeling bold and brash enough to try something new. But whatever the reason for that feeling, I've taught myself to react less instinctively. If you look around and check the record you'll see that survivors don't dig in their heels; they're light on their feet.

One good way to get and stay in this frame of mind, I think, is to keep a constant check on your expectations. "Every war is going to astonish you," Dwight D. Eisenhower once said.

I expect to succeed, always and in all things, or I wouldn't attempt them in the first place. But I never expect to be perfect. I go into a project knowing that unforeseen circumstances are bound to crop up, and some things are bound to go wrong. No matter how confident I seem, I always know in the back of my mind that for one reason or another I may have to make major changes, or even totally abandon the project in hand, and move on to the one of the five or six other projects I'm always sure to have going.

This is the mind-set of the professional prize-fighter - an excellent model for anyone interested in the art of survival. If you look at any green schoolboy in the annual Golden Gloves tournament, for example, and compare him to a seasoned veteran of the ring, you'll see what I mean. The amateur may be a brash kid from the meanest streets of Brooklyn or the South Bronx, the kind of guy who intimidates people just by walking down the street. But probably the first time he gets hit by an opponent in the ring, he goes crazy, flailing away at his rival in a way that wastes energy or leaves him open for further attack. Either that or he goes into a shell, pulling up his arms and ducking his head down, a position from which he invites further punishment. I've seen it happens a thousand times. Like the instinct to stay with the statu quo, this too is human nature.

The truly professional fighter, in contrast, has disciplined himself away from that reaction. He expects some adversity, no matter how macho his attitude before the bell sounds. He knows, going in, that the other guy is going to be throwing shots his way, and that there's no reason to take it personally or to panic. And when those fists finally do come flying, he, being a skilled survivor, knows what to do. He bobs, he weaves, he rolls with the punches.

So do I. Though, also like the professional fighter, I know that while I'm doing this I must also be throwing shots, so to speak, of my own.

One lesson I've had reinforced in the recent past is that there is absolutely no shame in making adjustments. Having high standards and confidence is one thing. But no one is perfect, and perfectionism, as I see it, is a character flaw that can ultimately lead to disaster.

I believe William Faulkner said it brilliantly when he wrote, "All of us failed to match our dream of perfection. So I rate us on the basis of our splendid failure to do the impossible. In my opinion, if I could write my work again, I am convinced that I would do it better, which is the healthiest condition for an artist. That's why he keeps on working, trying again..."

Of course, making a change in the interest of getting a little closer to perfection is not always painless. Sometimes, even if you're rolling with it, the punch hurts, and there's nothing you can do but tough it out...

As important as the willingness to change is, sometimes you've got to stand and fight.

The business climate changes, and the so-called experts start questionning whether you've lost your touch. You know damn well you haven't. But you also know, better than most people, that perception is reality. And so you've got a job on your hands.

It doesn't matter whether you have three billion or three hundred dollars in the bank: Life is a series of challenges. Some of the challenges you face turn out well. Some don't. What separats th winners from the losers, I've learned - in business and any other aspect of life - is how a person reacts to each twist of fate. You have to be confident as you face the world each day, but you can't be too cocky. Anyone who thinks he's going to win them all is going to wind up a big loser...

I think it's vitally important, during times of pressure, to face up to reality, however unpleasant that may be...

I get bored too easily. My attention span is short, and probably my least favorite thing to do is to maintain the status quo. Instead of being content when everything is going fine, I start getting impatient and irritable.

So I look for more and more deals to do. On a day in which I've got several good ones in the works and the phone calls and faxes are going back and forth and the tension is palpable - well, at those times I feel the way other people do when they're on vacation.

This has led me to some misunderstanding. Many people have called me greedy because of the way I amassed real estate, companies, helicopters, planes, and yachts during the last several years. But what those critics don't know is that the same assets that excite me in the chase often, once they are acquired, leave me bored... For me, you see, the important thing is in the getting... not the having.

In the midst of it all, I realized that I was doing what I love to do most - battle back from the brink.

One of the main things I know now that I didn't know then, or even a couple of years ago, has to do with invincibility. Let me tell you what I mean:...

It's not that I've suffered a knockout blow. Far from it. But after a long winning streak I'm being tested under pressure. I've also been in the public eye long enough so that the pendulum has swung, and many of the same media people who once put me on a pedestal now can't wait for me to fall off. People like a hero, a Golden Boy, but many like a fallen hero even better. That was a fact of life long before I came along, and I can handle it. I know that, whatever happens, I'm a survivor - a survivor of success, which is a very rare thing indeed.

The basic process of growth and change that I'm describing is not something unique to Donald Trump. It happens to everybody who is lucky enough not to die young. The main difference between me and others is that I've had to face many challenges and make my tough decisions under the glare of a white-hot spotlight. I'm not complaining about the attention I get. Publicity is important because it creates interest in my hotels, residential buildings, and other projects. But sometimes it gets out of hand, and my every move is scrutinized by the press to the point of absurdity...

Look, I don't expect anyone to feel sorry for me, but the fact is, I'm only human. Furthermore, the Trump Organization is in some ways like the Disney Company: Image means a great deal to me. If people don't associate my name with quality and success, I've got serious problems. So do the thousands of people who work for me and depend for their livelihood on my doing well. Unfortunately, years of relentless striving for perfection go into creating an image, but just a few potshots from some jerks with word processors can tarnish a reputation.

But it's not just the business press - and the public's desire to see the mighty fall - that makes life in the so-called fast lane so dangerous and, for many, so temporary as well. Anyone who makes it to the top of their profession will tell you, if he's honest, that his worst potential ennemy is himself. It's a rare person who can achieve a major goal in life and not almost immediately start feeling sad, empty, and a little lost. If you look at the record - which in this case means newspapers, magazines, and TV news - you'll see that an awful lot of people who achieve success, from Elvis Presley to Ivan Boesky, lose their direction or their ethics.

Actually, I don't have to look at anyone else's life to know that's true. I'm as susceptible to that pitfall as anyone else...

If you have a striving personality, the challenge matters most, not the reward. The truth is, almost nothing in life is what it's cracked up to be - except perhaps the battle to get where you want to go.

A lot of people who've made it big never realize that. They get to the top of their profession, be it show business or real estate or Wall Street, and then they wonder why they don't feel fulfilled. They get confused, they get depressed. They take drugs, they self-destruct. It's become a sad cliché...

To be always moving toward a new goal - if that's not the key to hapiness, then it's a key to achieving a state that's as close to hapiness as you're going to get in this life.

I can honestly say that I've never suffered through a prolonged period of depression. That may have something to do with genes - or with my life-style which is free of unnatural highs and thus the unnatural lows that always follow them. Yet I believe I've also been helped by the realization that life is a series of struggles. And there's nothing I or anyone else can do about that. In fact, I've come to relish the struggles...

"Just win wars." The general was talking to soldiers of course, but I felt that what he said applied to me as well. My main purpose in life is to keep winning. And the reason for that is simple: if I don't win, I don't get to fight the next battle.

At the same time, there are no guarantees in this world. Even if you do keep winning, it could all be over, suddenly, at any time. That truth really hit home on the morning of October 10, 1989. I know the date because it was a day that changed my life [when he lost three of his friends and business partners in a helicopter accident]...

Sometimes I couldn't believe my good fortune in having those men on my team. But in fact their presence had little to do with luck. They were with me because I believe very strongly in scouting the competition for top talent...

After thinking about it long and hard, I believe there is, at least, one valuable truth to be salvaged from the deaths of Steve, Mark, and Jon.

Life is fragile. It doesn't matter who you are, how good you are at what you do, how many beautiful buildings you put up, or how many people know your name. No one on earth can be totally secure, because nothing can completely protect you from life's tragedies and the relentless passage of time.

Not long ago, one of my secretaries opened an envelope and found a story, typed neatly on a piece of plain white paper. It really made me think.

In 1923 eight of the world's greatest financiers met in Chicago. The group included the president of the largest gas company, the greatest wheat speculator, a member of the President's cabinet, the greatest bear on Wall Street, the head of the world's greatest monopoly, and the president of the Bank of International Settlement.

These would certainly be considered among the world's most successful men. At least they had found the secret to making money. But now, more than sixty years later, where are these men?

The president of the largest independent steel company, Charles Schwab, died a pauper. The last few years of his life he lived on borrowed money.

The president of the largest gas company, Howard Hobson, went insane.

The greatest wheat speculator, Arthur Colton, died abroad, insolvent.

The president of the New York Stock Exchange, Richard Whitney, served time in Sing Sing Prison.

The member of the President's cabinet, Alfred Fall, was pardoned and released from prison so he could die at home.

The greatest bear on Wall Street, Jesse Livermore, died a suicide.

The head of the world's greatest monopoly, Ivor Kruger, the Match King, died a suicide.

The president of the Bank of International Settlement shot himself.

Quite a fun bunch, no? And yet very typical. The moral of that sad tale is that success is far more difficult to maintain than it is to achieve.

If you doubt that, you've never been successful. Let me make this absolutely clear: This chapter is not a whine. Everyone knows the benefits of wealth and fame - for instance, that I can, in theory, go anywhere and do anything I want. The trouble is, in reality life at the top comes with very little freedom. I can't walk down Fifth Avenue anymore without being mobbed. I can't go to the movies without sending two bodyguards to hold my seats until the lights go out and I can slip in quietly. Open tennis tournament in Flushing Meadows and just sitting back and watching the professionals play their game - that's probably lost to me forever...

The more celebrities I meet, the more I realize that fame is a kind of drug, one that is way too powerful for most people to handle...

Obviously, you don't have to be crazy or mean just because you're successful.

Someone I admire greatly for the way he handles all the attention is Bob Hope. Bob causes a stir wherever he goes, and has for more than sixty years, but by now he's got the crowd-control part of his life down to a science. I've watched him walk through a crowded lobby, and I've noticed that he always goes as quickly as possible, signing whatever pieces of paper are thrust in front of him, but never breaking his stride. Then with a smile and a wave he's into the elevator, the doors close, and he's gone. On the way out, it's the same thing - step, sign, smile, and into the car. Everyone's happy and nobody feels neglected. And Bob gets on with his life. That's probably why he's been so successful for so long - and why he's so healthy and robust in his mid-eighties.

It's great to have good natural instincts, but even if you do, you may find that's not enough. Over the years I've come up with certain rules for myself that are important - and in some cases vital - for surviving the perils of success.

The first and most important of these is be disciplined. [Be] the kind of man who stays the course during good times and bad. It's the key to staying on top. It means you go to work each morning (as my father still does), and you consistently do the things that you know will get results. You push forward, then you push forward some more, and you never see your adversaries see you worried. Long vacations, drinking, drugs - all of those things are bad for discipline because they interrupt your momentum.

And momentum, when you think about it, is what surviving at the top is all about.

My next rule is be honest - even if the world around you is often dishonest.

Despite a brash and occasionally arrogant approach, I go by the book...

I do this because I'm an orderly person by nature and because I was raised always to do the right thing. But even if that weren't the case, there are practical reasons for me to remain honest. At this point, no amount of money I could gain by cheating could justify the risk of losing everything I've worked for in my career. My name and my reputation are very important to me.

What it comes down to is being incredibly vigilant.

Rule three is don't think you're so smart that you can go it alone.

I've got a big ego. Every successful person does. Although I am involved to some degree in virtually every aspect of my business, I couldn't be a one-man show if I wanted to, or at least I couldn't survive very long that way. So I surround myself with good people, and then I give myself the luxury of trusting them. By "good" I mean not just competent but also possessing character and class.

Nothing would be done in my office if it weren't for Norma Foerderer, my executive assistant.

Which leads me to my fourth rule: Although you run the risk of wasting a lot of times, be reachable...

As a businessman, the mail is important to me. The deal for my yacht, the Trump Princess, began with a letter I received out of the blue from a broker of fine-quality boats in London. And not long ago one of Japan's leading developers wrote to me suggesting a plan to build a Trump Tower of the Far East and offering many millions of dollars just for the use of the name. I'm sure both those people would have been baffled to receive a smiling headshot of me and a "Dear Fan" letter in response to their inquiries. Ultimately, though, the main reason I don't ignore the letter writers is that the vast majority of them are nice people, and they deserve a considerate response.

Rule Five is stay close to home.

It's a simple truth but a very valuable one to recognize that the world doesn't suddenly change when you're successful. What got you to the top is usually what will keep you there, and very few people have made it big without going in every day and putting in the hours. In general, my philosophy is to stay as close to home as possible.

Finally, be flexible.

I talk a lot about dealmaking as an art, but scheduling is a minor art form in itself, especially when you're being pulled in many different directions. What Norma and I both understand is that when it comes to planning my day, there is a huge difference between working hard and being a crazed workaholic. I work from morning until night, but I try to make sure that there is plenty of white space on my appointment calendar. As Samuel Butler, the English writer, said, "To do great work a man must be very idle as well as very industrious." Those empty slots on my schedule don't represent wasted time. Not beeing booked solid allows me to come up with ideas rather than simply react to other people's problems. Having open time also gives me the flexibility to deal with what's really happening that day. That may sound simple, but making sure that I run my day instead of allowing my day to run me is a key way I avoid being overwhelmed by work.

In my opinion, the social scene is full of phonies and unattractive people who have done nothing smarter than inherit somebody else's wealth - the Lucky Sperm Club, I call it. I'm a man with very simple tastes - not in building design, perhaps, but in most other things. I don't like rich sauces or fine wines. I like to eat steack rather than pheasant under glass. I prefer, on most nights, to sit in bed with the TV tuned to some movie or sports event and the phone not far away.

What is absolutely necessary [to be a success in the casino business] is that you like and understand gamblers, from the slot-machine players, who are your bread and butter, to the high rollers, who can make a difference of millions of dollars in your bottom line in the course of one weekend. Frankly, the idea of risking hard-earned money on the toss of the dice or the spin of a wheel seems slightly ludicrous to me personally. But I do love the excitement of the scene, and I love hanging around with important casino customers. These are colorful, gutsy, unpretentious guys who usually come from modest backgrounds but who've managed to live by their wits and live rather lavishly.

One thing I've learned about the construction business - and life in general - is that while what you do is obviously important, the most important thing is just to do something. You can waste tremendous amounts of time agonizing over which course of action to take when, in fact, any of the choices you're considering is probably preferable to continued pondering, which only heightens your fear of making a mistake... All you can do is decide what you think makes sense - and then move on to the next challenge.

Being decisive also motivates the troops. Approach [people] with a combination of firmness and fairness and you'll get your building up according to plan.

Ever since I got out of college, I've had a list of ten New York properties that I want to acquire.

The value of many things comes down to emotion. Why else are people paying $400 an ounce for gold and hundreds of thousands of dollars for a diamond that has absolutely no practical value?

In dealmaking you've got to be able to draw a line and say to yourself, This is as far as I'm going. The ability to know that is in the genes; either you have it or you don't... The true deal people sleep at night, no matter what.

In a deal you never want to be tough or unfriendly for no reason. You can often get a lot more accomplished - and besides, life is just plain more pleasant - when you deal as friends instead of enemies.

I'm not by any means a workaholic, as I've said, but having a lot on your plate is one of the golden secrets of dealmaking. I'll never forget a friend who once spent two years concentrating on a single big project. "There's no way you can make a good deal," I told him. "When the heavy negociating starts, you'll be thinking about what you have at stake and all it might all go to waste, and the other side will see the fear in your eyes and take advantage of you." To make sure I don't ever find myself in that position, I try to have a minimum of ten deals working at all times. That way I can concentrate on the ones that are going well and walk away from the rest.

A lot of other ideas about how to restore the hotel [New York Plaza Hotel] came from employees who'd been there since the good old days. I remember walking through the ballroom one day with about twenty designers, consultants, architects, and others, all of whom were telling me that I should take down the curtains, move the doorways, and change everything around in ways that I frankly found mind-boggling. On an impulse, I grabbed one of the waiters and asked him how long he'd worked at the Plaza. "Thirty-seven years," he said. I then ushered him off to a quiet spot and began asking him questions. "Oh, Mr. Trump, we need the curtains because we have shows," he said. "But if you want to know what has to be changed, I'll tell you." In about five minutes, he and I had formulated a basic master plan for the renovation of the ballroom.

The key to improving the Plaza is that I move fast and decisively, unemcumbered by any bureaucracy. I may not always make the right move... but there is never any bureaucratic bullshit. I walk through the place, see things I don't like, and immediately work on getting them changed.

I don't like putting up large amounts of money and then having someone else decide how a project will be handled. There's no kick in it for me unless I can go out, find the best people, and then manage the company.

If the story of this deal [the Eastern Airlines shuttle buy] proves anything, it is the value of perseverance in the face of adversity.

The shuttle deal also proved the value of being a poker player. When West America came along [also making offers to buy Eastern Airlines shuttle], everyone wanted me to raise my bid by as much as $100 million to ensure that I'd get the shuttle. I knew, though, that I wasn't going to raise my bid by even one cent. I wanted to stand pat and to take my chances. If someone was willing to spend hundreds of millions more than I was, then I would let him have what he wanted and wish him good luck.

Usually when I do a deal, it fits into some larger plan. I buy a hotel on the Boardwalk in Atlantic City because I need rooms for my casino customers, or I invest in a department store chain, like Alexander's, because the company owns some very desirable real estate. But my purchase of that yacht [the Trump princess from Khashoggi] was something else entirely. It was a deal done strictly for the sake of dealing: art for art's sake... I just saw an opportunity to acquire something at a fantastic price and I seized the moment.

I have no interest in making moral judgments about people, so I can't say I was shocked to learn about the wild parties that took place on board... I don't think anything could shock me anymore.

Not that wild behavior is all that common among the rich and famous. Most successful people I know are, on the contrary, so wrapped up in their work that they never let their hair down. Unless you like to talk about real estate deals or the stock market, you'll probably find their company boring.

I can - and often do - make major decisions right on the spot, and that sometimes blows people away. One of my greatest advantages is that I am an individual, not a corporation, and I don't have to go back to headquarters and deal with the bureaucracy.

Considering that the yacht had probably cost $85 million to build in the early eighties, and that to construct an identical boat would cost between $150 million and $200 million at the time, I knew that my price was unrealistic [a $15 million offer to buy it] and that I'd have to pay more if I really wanted the boat. But I wanted to see right away if the Nabila was going to be the bargain I thought it might be. If Beckett rejected my offer and the conversation stopped right there, I'd knowI wasn't going to get a great price, and that would probably the beginning of the end of my fascination with boating. Jonathan's response, though, was that he would arrange to fly in from London so that we could talk further. I took that as a sign that my ridiculously low offer might not be so ridiculous after all.

Sometimes the most glamorous and highly publicized deals are no more complicated, basically, than what happens every day on any used-car lot. Certainly the negotiation was anything but complex. When Beckett walked into my office a few days later, he was asking $32 million for the vessel. I countered with $28 million, figuring we'd settle eventually on $30 million - which we did, after about thirty minutes of conversation.

There was, however, one unexpected development after we came to an agreement on price. I got a call from a representative of the sultan of Brunei, who said that Khashoggi was worried that his daughter's name would be used on the boat. Of course, I had no intention of continuing to call the yacht the Nabila. But my first reaction was not to give away anything without getting anything in return.

"I'll think about it," I said. And I did - until the intermediary called back a few days later to say that the sultan, out of respect for Khashoggi, was prepared to knock $1 million off the purchase price if I agreed to change the name of the boat. I said that would be fine, and the final purchase price became $29 million.

Now I faced the question of what I was going to do with the boat.

As much as I loved it as a work of art, I knew that it would never become part of my personal life-style... Realistically speaking, I knew I'd never try doing that. It makes me nervous to relax.

Instead I saw a great opportunity to use the Trump Princess for business purposes...

After a couple of years I started to think about an even bigger boat, and I actually had plans drawn for one. This is a classic example of how I keep trying to top myself. Owning the world's most magnificient yacht only made me want to get something even biogger and better.

But as much as I've enjoyed it until now, and as impressive as it's been to my casino customers, I think I'm giving up the game of who's got the best boat. The Trump Princess, as I write this, is up for sale. I don't need it anymore, I don't want it anymore, and, frankly, I can find better things to do with my money. It's funny how the boat seemed more appropriate to my life in the past than to my future.

The hotel's [ex-Playboy Casino Hotel then The Atlantis] first big problem was its name. As I've said before, giving yourself the right image is extremely important in the casino business, and the name set the tone for your place. There are no rules about picking a name; some work and some don't. "Trump" fortunately, has sent the right message. "Atlantis" on the other hand, just didn't say excitement, stability or success.

I got a kick of watching him [Mike Tyson], because cultivating a "killer" image is not unknown to dealmakers. A smart man or woman knows that if the other party thinks you are invincible, he may not even bother asking for certain things.

Mike does have some unusual habits and attitudes, especially when it comes to money. He is totally uninterested in it. There were times when I'd talk to him about financial planning, tax shelters, and investments, and I'd see by the look in his eyes that I'd lost him completely. It wasn't that he couldn't follow what I was saying. He just doesn't have the slightest interest in the subject.

Soon after the Spinks fight I presented Mike with a check for $10 million. He said thank you, folded it, and put it in his jacket pocket without glancing at it - it was no big deal. A few days later one of my accountants called me and said that the check had never been cashed and that we had better find out what was going on.

It turned out that Mike had simply misplaced the $10 million. When someone reminded him about it, he shrugged and looked for the check, but it was a few weeks before it was found and deposited by one of his people.

I have a reputation for being tough, and I'd like to think it's justified. You must be tough when a lot of influential people are saying that your day has come and gone, when your marriage is breaking up, and when business pressures are increasing. Toughness, in the long run, is a major secret of my survival. But I also realize that a lot of people who throw around the term have no idea what it really means.

When I try to define toughness, I often conjure up a mental image of the great football running backs of years past. These were not gentle men - yet no one ever accused them of being unfair. Sometimes you saw them just plowing ahead, sometimes sidestepping, sometimes spinning off blockers, and sometimes straight-arming opponents. Like all the great athletes (and all great business people), they knew the textbook plays, but they weren't afraid of going out and making up moves as they went along. They almost never used the same tactic twice - and yet one thing never changed. They were always moving forward, and with great determination, toward the goal at which they, as much as anyone else, were aiming.

Toughness, as I see it, is a quality made up of equal parts of strenght, intelligence, and self-respect. Fred [Trump's brother] though I loved him dearly, was not traditionally tough. He was sweet and trusting, and as a result, people constantly took advantage of him. Watching what happened to Fred, I learned to study people closely and always to keep my guard up, in both my personal and my professional life.

Occasionally, yes, toughness does involve some old-fashioned ass-kicking.

Yet, despite what many people think, being tough has nothing to do with bullying people. A bully to me is someone who is trying to work out some psychological problem by intimidating others.

Usually I'm friendly, polite and upbeat in my dealings with employees and even with business adversaries. I don't recomment speaking sternly to people or throwing your weight around unless it serves some clear purpose. If, in the course of conducting one of my spot checks, I find the Trump Shuttle phone system less than perfect and express my displeasure or even my anger, I'm just taking care of business in an honest fashion. I'm not going behind anyone's back to complain or have someone fired. We've had a minute of unpleasantness, perhaps, but then the air is cleared and we can all get back to business.

The opposite of toughness - weakness - makes me mad and sometimes turns my stomach. I'm not referring here to the kind of weakness that comes from being poor, sick, or disadvantaged. I'm talking about those people who can take a strong stand but just don't.

In my first book I told the story of how I got a forty years tax abatement from New York City when converting the old Commodore Hotel on Forty-second Street into the Grand Hyatt. "How did you ever get forty years?" people asked me.

"Because," I answered with a shrug, "I didn't ask for fifty."

Too many politicians today don't understand that unless they stand up and say clearly what they want in a particular situation, they can't expect to get it. Or more likely, they do understand that, but by nature they are weak or worried about offending some special interest and they shrink from any kind of confrontation. As a result, they deal exclusively in compromises and limp concessions.

A person may be able to survive in politics or a State Department job with no discernible talent, but in business - whether you're a man or a woman - you must have a quality for which there is, unfortunately, no better terms than "balls."

I respect smart, tough people the way others admire great athletes or entertainers - even when these people are unpopular or down on their luck.

So, in the end, what is toughness, as I see it, midway through my life?

Toughness is pride, drive, commitment, and the courage to follow through on things you believe in, even when they are under attack. It is solving problems instead of letting them fester. It is being who you really are, even when society wants you to be somebody else. Toughness is walking away from things you want because, for one reason or another, acquiring them doesn't make sense.

Toughness is knowing how to be a gracious winner - and rebounding quickly when you lose.

For a nation, toughness means avoiding complacency, meeting and solving problems head-on, and being willing to use power for goals you know are honorable.

In business, toughness means playing by the rules but also putting those rules to work for you. It is looking at an adversary across the desk and saying, simply, No.

Sometimes, if you hang in there long enough and, as the boxing trainers always say, "keep punching till the bell," people take notice and give you a boost.

As I've said repeatedly in my first book and in this one, I believe in working hard. I believe in being smart and not cute. I don't respect cheaters. My admiration is reserved for those who have achieved greatness and then topped themselves.

I'm never satisfied - which is my way of saying that there is a great deal I still want to do and believe I should do.

Some people are always saying that I can't go on like this forever, and that I'm at the beginning of the end. I'd rather see myself as being at the end of the beginning.