Making money is often more fun than spending it, though I

Sam Altman once declared with clarity and balance: “Making money is often more fun than spending it, though I personally have never regretted money I’ve spent on friends, new experiences, saving time, travel, and causes I believe in.” Though born of modern commerce, his words echo with the gravity of ancient wisdom. For in them we hear the eternal tension between the joy of gain and the duty of use, between the thrill of acquisition and the nobility of purpose. Altman reminds us that while the chase for wealth can be exhilarating, its truest worth is measured by how it is given meaning through love, growth, and service.

The first truth here is that making money—the act of building, striving, and succeeding—stirs the spirit of man. It awakens competition, ingenuity, and persistence. To create wealth is to forge something out of nothing, to call forth abundance where there was scarcity. This act of creation can be intoxicating, for it mirrors the divine impulse to shape order out of chaos. Yet Altman’s wisdom is that the joy of making is only half the story. The greater question is: once it is made, what is it for?

Here he turns our eyes to friends, the first and most enduring investment. The ancients placed fellowship above riches. In Homer’s epics, wealth fades, but the bonds of comradeship endure through war and storm. To spend upon friends—whether in feasting, in shared journeys, or in small tokens of affection—is never waste, for it strengthens the ties that hold us upright when fortune fails. In this, Altman aligns with timeless truth: gold spent on friendship buys treasures no thief can steal.

He next exalts experiences and travel. Here is wisdom known since the days when men first crossed seas and deserts: that the mind is enlarged not by what it hoards, but by what it beholds. A coin spent on trinkets rusts away, but a coin spent to climb a mountain, to walk a foreign street, or to taste new air, yields memories that outlive kingdoms. Recall Marco Polo, whose journeys expanded not only his life but the imagination of Europe itself. His travel enriched more than himself—it shaped the destiny of nations. So too with us: to spend upon experience is to plant seeds of vision that bear fruit long after.

Altman also names time as worthy of purchase. The ancients spoke of Chronos, the devourer, who consumes all men. To save time is to reclaim life itself. When money frees us from drudgery, from needless toil, from the chains of delay, it gives us back the rarest treasure. Marcus Aurelius, in his Meditations, warned that men waste their lives as if they had endless supply, yet guard their coins with jealousy. Altman inverts this folly: spend coins to save hours, for the hours are more precious than all the gold of kings.

Finally, he speaks of causes—the noble work of serving what one believes in. Here lies the highest calling of wealth. Cyrus the Great built roads not merely for conquest, but for the flourishing of peoples. Ashoka, once a ruthless emperor, poured his treasure into pillars inscribed with mercy and dharma. In every age, those who use their money to uplift others, to defend truth, to heal, and to plant hope, discover that their spending becomes immortality. For the cause outlives the coin, and the deed outlives the man.

The lesson shines clear: seek joy in making, but find purpose in spending. Let wealth serve life, not enslave it. Do not waste it on vanity, but pour it into friends, experiences, the saving of time, the wonder of travel, and the causes that give the soul its fire. In this way, you will never know regret, for your riches will be transmuted into love, memory, freedom, wisdom, and legacy.

Practical action follows. Strive diligently to earn, for work shapes character. But when you hold money in your hand, pause and ask: Will this bring joy that endures? Will this strengthen bonds, enrich the mind, preserve the hours, expand the spirit, or further the good? If yes, spend freely and without remorse. If no, let the coin rest. For in this discernment lies true wealth: not in hoarding, not in squandering, but in aligning treasure with truth.

Thus Sam Altman’s words become a commandment for our age: Make with joy, spend with wisdom, and measure your wealth not by what you keep, but by what you transform. For in the end, coins perish, but love, experience, time well-lived, journeys taken, and causes served endure beyond the grave, as eternal monuments of a life rightly spent.