"What would people say about you when you're gone?" That to me was a very important question. I thought about that for a couple of years and said, "What people say about you when you're gone doesn't matter. You're gone." What really matters is, "What do you say about yourself in the here and now? Are you proud of what you're doing?" If you had a short lease and it ended today, or it ends tomorrow, what would you wish you would have done? You better do it.

I think I have terminal curiosity. So I always think that the future will be better and different than the past. As I look back and take inventory of myself, I'm very open-minded and flexible. People say the older you get, you get set in your ways. I don't think so.

Growing up, I knew you were supposed to have a profession - and something better than being a shopkeeper, which is what my parents were.

A woman at the Limited once asked me, 'Why do you work?' She said, 'You made a lot of money as a young man, so why are you still working?' I had never thought about it before. Forced to consider it, I told her, 'You know why? Because I think that if you stop to smell the roses, you'll get hit by a truck.

Ask yourself: What forms the decisions you make? What is it that gnaws at you? What are your crucible moments?

I think what I've tried to do is make the world a better place. I think that's what's really important. Nobody remembers who sold the most togas in Rome. In terms of legacy, people remember the great villains more than they remember the great heroes. So I think how you feel about yourself is the most significant question. What do you say about yourself when you put your head on the pillow? Are you really proud of what you're doing and the way you're doing it? I think it's really a fundamental question.

In the '70s and '80s, the mentality of America was that everything was disposable. The notion of quality wasn't important.