The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari by Robin Sharma PDF Download

This is a self-help book by Robin Sharma, a writer and motivational speaker. The cover of thee book says it all about how great the books is. This inspiring tale provides a step-by-step approach to living with greater courage, balance, abundance, and joy.

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Here are first few pages of this book:

The Wake-Up Call

He collapsed right in the middle of a packed courtroom. He was
one of this country's most distinguished trial lawyers. He was also
a man who was as well known for the three-thousand-dollar Italian
suits which draped his well-fed frame as for his remarkable string
of legal victories. I simply stood there, paralyzed by the shock of
what I had just witnessed. The great Julian Mantle had been
reduced to a victim and was now squirming on the ground like a
helpless infant, shaking and shivering and sweating like a maniac.
Everything seemed to move in slow motion from that point on.
"My God, Julian's in trouble!" his paralegal screamed, emotionally
offering us a blinding glimpse of the obvious. The judge looked
panic-stricken and quickly muttered something into the private
phone she had had installed in the event of an emergency. As for
me, I could only stand there, dazed and confused. Please don't die,
you old fool. Its too early for you to check out. You don't deserve
to die like this.
The bailiff, who earlier had looked as if he had been embalmed
in his standing position, leapt into action and started to perform
CPR on the fallen legal hero. The paralegal was at his side, her long blond curls dangling over Julian's ruby-red face, offering him
soft words of comfort, words which he obviously could not hear.
I had known Julian for seventeen years. We had first met when
I was a young law student hired by one of his partners as a summer
research intern. Back then, he'd had it all. He was a brilliant, hand-
some and fearless trial attorney with dreams of greatness. Julian
was the firm's young star, the rain-maker in waiting. I can still
remember walking by his regal corner office while I was working
late one night and stealing a glimpse of the framed quotation
perched on his massive oak desk. It was by Winston Churchill and
it spoke volumes about the man that Julian was:
Sure I am that this day we are masters of our fate, that the
task which has been set before us is not above our strength;
that its pangs and toils are not beyond my endurance. As
long as we have faith in our own cause and an uncon-
querable will to win, victory will not be denied us.
Julian also walked his talk. He was tough, hard-driving and
willing to work eighteen-hour days for the success he believed was
his destiny. I heard through the grapevine that his grandfather
had been a prominent senator and his father a highly respected
judge of the Federal Court. It was obvious that he came from
money and that there were enormous expectations weighing on his
Armani-clad shoulders. I'll admit one thing though: he ran his own
race. He was determined to do things his own way — and he loved
to put on a show.
Julian's outrageous courtroom theatrics regularly made the front
pages of the newspapers. The rich and famous flocked to his side
whenever they needed a superb legal tactician with an aggressive edge. His extra-curricular activities were probably as well known.
Late-night visits to the city's finest restaurants with sexy young fash-
ion models, or reckless drinking escapades with the rowdy band of
brokers he called his "demolition team" became the stuff of legend at
the firm.
I still can't figure out why he picked me to work with him on
that sensational murder case he was to argue that first summer.
Though I had graduated from Harvard Law School, his alma
mater, I certainly wasn't the brightest intern at the firm, and my
family pedigree reflected no blue blood. My father spent his whole
life as a security guard with a local bank after a stint in the
Marines. My mother grew up unceremoniously in the Bronx.
Yet he did pick me over all the others who had been quietly
lobbying him for the privilege of being his legal gofer on what
became known as "the Mother of All Murder Trials": he said he
liked my "hunger." We won, of course, and the business executive
who had been charged with brutally killing his wife was now a free
man — or as free as his cluttered conscience would let him be.
My own education that summer was a rich one. It was far
more than a lesson on how to raise a reasonable doubt where none
existed — any lawyer worth his salt could do that. This was a
lesson in the psychology of winning and a rare opportunity to
watch a master in action. I soaked it up like a sponge.
At Julian's invitation, I stayed on at the firm as an associate,
and a lasting friendship quickly developed between us. I will
admit that; he wasn't the easiest lawyer to work with. Serving as
his junior was often an exercise in frustration, leading to more
than a few late-night shouting matches. It was truly his way or the
highway. This man could never be wrong. However, beneath his
crusty exterior was a person who clearly cared about people. No matter how busy he was, he would always ask about Jenny,
the woman I still call "my bride" even though we were married
before I went to law school. On finding out from another summer
intern that I was in a financial squeeze, Julian arranged for me to
receive a generous scholarship. Sure, he could play hardball with
the best of them, and sure, he loved to have a wild time, but he
never neglected his friends. The real problem was that Julian was
obsessed with work.
For the first few years he justified his long hours by saying that
he was "doing it for the good of the firm", and that he planned to
take a month off and go to the Caymans "next winter for sure." As
time passed, however, Julian's reputation for brilliance spread and
his workload continued to increase. The cases just kept on getting
bigger and better, and Julian, never one to back down from a good
challenge, continued to push himself harder and harder. In his rare
moments of quiet, he confided that he could no longer sleep for
more than a couple of hours without waking up feeling guilty that
he was not working on a file. It soon became clear to me that he was
being consumed by the hunger for more: more prestige, more glory
and more money.
As expected, Julian became enormously successful. He
achieved everything most people could ever want: a stellar profes-
sional reputation with an income in seven figures, a spectacular
mansion in a neighborhood favored by celebrities, a private jet, a
summer home on a tropical island and his prized possession — a
shiny red Ferrari parked in the center of his driveway.
Yet I knew that things were not as idyllic as they appeared on
the surface. I observed the signs of impending doom not because I
was so much more perceptive than the others at the firm, but
simply because I spent the most time with the man.
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"The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari is a treasure — an elegant and
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Ken Vegotsky, author of The Ultimate Power
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dream. A good read!"
Justine and Michael Toms, cofounders of New Dimensions Radio and
coauthors of True Work: The Sacred Dimension of Earning a Living
"Robin Sharma has created an enchanting tale that incorporates the
classic tools of transformation into a simple philosophy of living. A
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Elaine St. James, author of Simplify Your Life
and Inner Simplicity
"A fun, fascinating, fanciful adventure into the realms of personal
development, personal effectiveness, and individual happiness. It
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Ken Vegotsky, author of The Ultimate Power
"Robin S. Sharma . . . has collected the best life strategies from
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Reviewer's Book Watch
"The perfect blend of East and West."
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